Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths
by Pink Bismuth
Summary: Fate laughs at probabilities. L's a man of probabilities and Harry is fate's fool. Savior meets Sleuth in the pursuit of Kira but is justice all they'll find? Does fate have other plans? Has the probability of finding love in a murder case just gone up?
1. Airports, Articles, and Introspection

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively as well as** **various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc., Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, and** Viz Media respectively.** No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I ****own nothing. Oh I also don't own Oprah (or I'd be ruler of the universe by now) nor do I own Narita International Airport or most anything else you might recognize.**

**Summary: **Fate laughs at probabilities. L's a man of probabilities and Harry has always been fate's fool. Savior meets Sleuth in the pursuit of Kira but is justice all they'll find? Does fate have other plans? The probability of finding love in a murder case just went up and even L couldn't see these odds. When a heart broken Harry Potter decides to escape his life and the drama fate sent his way he never expected this. In Japan his curiosity is peaked and once again circumstances drag him into yet another mystery. Though determined to stay out of it, things get personal and his saving-people instincts come into play. Questions will run rampant. Who is this mysterious vigilante who calls himself Kira? How is he killing people? Is magic involved? What was that odd creature he saw floating around the tennis court, why did the deathly hallows react to it, and why did it seem to recognize him? What's a Death Note? Just who is this mysterious L? What is the probability of finding love in a murder investigation?

**_Authors Note:_** _This is a Harry Potter/Death Note crossover, as I'm sure you've surmised. It mostly follows canon events in Harry Potter but disregards the epilogue. It's also based on Death Note events as per the Anime (the English dub specifically) as that's the one I've re-watched most recently. The story itself takes place about 6 years after the final battle and right after Light kills Lind L Tailor. Surprisingly enough the actual time lines of both Harry Potter and Death Note (the manga time line) coincide very well for my purposes. It's a Harry/L pairing, but it's going to take awhile to develop as I don't believe in love at first sight. Hmm.. I suppose the only other thing I have to note on is that Harry is 23 in this story and as such, is not exactly the same person as he was at 17, that's NOT to say he's not the same core person but I do believe there's room for character development. So if he has a few quirks here or there or does something out of character remember there are 6 years worth of events that could explain it. _**  
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**Warnings:** There will most likely be spoilers for all seven Harry Potter books (mostly the seventh) and for Death Note the Anime up to season 2 episode 6 because as far as I'm concerned Death Note ended when L did, that's not to say I didn't watch the rest, I did and immediately wished I hadn't. No offense to the successors but they just seemed like filler, dragging on the show because anime's can never just end with dignity. The show was supposed to be Kira vs L bringing in the rest of the alphabet just seemed like overkill, but alas I digress. If your reading fan fiction for either you really should go finish the originals first. Moving on... this is Slash, shōnen-ai, man/man, homosexual love. It's not going to be horribly graphic or anything (it _is _rated _T_ not _M_ after all) but I know that it can offend or just not interest some people. If your one of these people you probably wont like this story. There may or may not be character death, it's half Death Note so do note the death part of that title. Well you've been warned. I've never actually been flamed before and I have no real reason to expect to be. But if I do somehow incur your literary wrath feel free to express it through reviews, it'll up my review count and give me something laugh about.

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**"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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**Chapter One: **_**Airports, Articles, and Introspection**_

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_"You call it avoidance, I call it vacation." -J.M.B.-  
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The airport was a bustle with life as people rushed back and forth through the terminals, making their way to destinations unknown. It was noisy, crowded, and altogether unpleasant as the travelers tried their best to get as far away from each other as fast as they possibly could.

There was an easily distracted couple who were completely oblivious to the people behind them. They found themselves inexplicably unable to navigate through the airport without stopping every five seconds to either; check their tickets, figure out where they were going, or to just plain ogle the shops.

Their stop and go traffic disrupted the path of an overly perfumed granny behind them. It ensued in a very impassioned scolding on being considerate of others. This, in turn proved rather hypocritical of her as the noxious fumes she drowned herself in, in an attempt to cut through the sweat sock smell of the unwashed masses, assaulted the sinuses of the man next to her, resulting in a sneezing fit.

And of course said Sneezer did not cover his mouth. Which then elicited a suspicious glare from the mother to his left; dragging a seemingly demonically possessed child who was screaming at the top of his lungs, securely in tow.

Glaring contemptuously at them all was a very self-involved business man as he shouted into his cell phone. It seemed his current state of business was making sure they all knew just how much more important his time was as compared to theirs.

Yes indeed you see many different kinds of people at the airport. All sharing that urgent need to get where they are going in a hurry, usually bypassing common courtesy to do so.

Yet one young man seemed perfectly content to sit in a shadowy corner of an airport café, gazing out the nearby windows, simply observing these mundane proceedings. He watched with faint amusement as the traveling victims; who had long suffered copious amounts of time confined to cramped airplane seats, blinded by horrible fluorescent lighting, and tortured by baggage lines that never seemed to end, flitted around like chickens with their heads cut off. Currently his verdant eyes were alight with humor, highly entertained as he watched some of the wackier antics of the previously mentioned devil child.

It would appear that the boy had zeroed in on the business man almost immediately after he and his mother had entered the café. The little hellion then proceeded to taunt the man as his mother ordered her coffee. Well one thing lead to another; the next thing you knew, they were both engrossed in an oddly epic stare down. It ended with the little anti-Christ kicking the man in the shin.

This sent the observer into barely suppressed laughter which only grew louder when the mother turned around. Seeing the business man insulting her son, who had suddenly taken it upon himself to look as innocent as possible; she instantly got into protective mother mode. She threatened him with the dreaded 'airport security'. The poor fool never stood a chance.

Once they cleared out though, the man went back to his coffee and couldn't suppress a sigh as he focused his attention on the newspaper in front of him. He had previously discarded it in lieu of the far more amusing pastime of people watching. To the average eye it appeared to be the day's edition of _"The Times"_. To the owner however, the title read _"The Daily Prophet"_ and instead of an article on the latest medical scare in the UK, his eyes beheld quite a different headline.

"_The Man-Who-Vanquished Leaves Britain: Vacation or Immigration?"_

_By __Romilda Vane_

_Wizarding Britain has been recently shaken by the sudden departure of prodigy Auror Harry Potter also known as The Man-Who-Vanquished. Sources indicate that Mr. Potter has taken an indefinite leave of absence from his job for "personal reasons" that are, as of yet, not stated. When asked Head Auror Thomas Proudfoot owned up to being an Auror short and claimed "I've no doubt Potter will be back when he's through with his business, he's not quitting just taking some time off...". In search of further answers I questioned the remaining two thirds of the Golden Trio. They couldn't be pressed to reveal more than: he's out of the country for personal reasons and asks that we respect his right to privacy. Though no one seems willing to own up to these "personal reason", this reporter thinks the reasons are pretty obvious; when one considers the recent scandal involving he and his now ex- fiancé Oliver Wood, Keeper for Puddlemere United._

_For those of you who have been living under a rock for the pass few years, let me enlighten you as to the unfortunate events that have led to the wreckage of our favorite hero's love life. Wood and Potter first met at Hogwarts, playing together on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Wood the Captain and Keeper, Potter the star Seeker. But alas their four year age difference prevented anything more than friendship at the time. They met again at the Battle of Hogwarts, Wood was even seen talking with Potter in the aftermath but again circumstances prevented any romance. Finally, after three long years they met once again, at a celebrity Quidditch__ match for charity. They were on separate teams, Potter won his team the match and instead of the usual explosive reaction that we've come to expect of Puddlemere's competitive Keeker we observed Oliver's very public request for a date. Potter never displaying an interest in men previously and seeming not at all impressed with the overly showy demand, had refused. However after a quite a bit of time and quite a few rejections he finally wore Potter down. _

_It was official, Harry Potter was Bisexual fan-girls and fan-boys alike could rejoice, until they realized he was taken, then came the despair (and oh how we despaired!). It was about a year into their whirlwind romance when Wood was fatally injured during a Quiddatch match and immediately sent to Saint Mungos for intensive treatment. He pulled through and it was by his sick bed that Potter proposed to the recovering Oliver. He of course said yes and after a year long engagement, the date was set for May of this coming year. Apparently the old saying "Marry in the month of May, and you'll surely rue the day." applies also to merely planning to do so in this case. To further understand one need only remember the scandalous happenings at this year's Quidditch World Cup._

_It was England vs. Bulgaria and happily England took the cup; sadly for Potter, Zacharias Smith took the Keeper. The second the game was over, likely elated from winning Oliver Wood took no discretion in sucking face with Smith on the field for all the world to see! Potter was of course devastated to find his fiancé two-timing on the pitch, only worsened by whom it was with. Smith is, without a doubt, one of the most vocal of Harry Potter's critics; his articles, reminiscent of the past works of Rita Skeeter, are well known for their vitriol for the vanquisher. Predictably an argument broke out. It ended with Smith being set on fire, Wood fighting off a bat-bogey hex, one reporter with a broken nose, and one hero with a broken heart. (For a more detailed account see page 4)_

_Suffice to say the engagement was off. After this emotional event we hadn't seen much of our favorite hero. But it was reported by inside ministry sources that Potter chose to increase his workload. Being a notorious workaholic it hadn't warranted any concern at the time. It was only after his collapsing of exhaustion, while on the job, that the worrying set-in. Fan-girls everywhere (this reporter included) were inconsolable! He was briefly hospitalized at Saint Mungos which was followed by his current disappearance._

_ Potter's aversion to attention is very well-known and the public interest in his very messy break up has obviously unsettled him greatly. It would appear that he has found a way to rectify this issue. If you can't stop them runaway from them! But really, is it any wonder he left? No, indeed I think we can all agree our hero needs a vacation. The question is however, is it really a vacation or something a little more permanent? (For more details see page 5)  
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Eyes narrowed, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it angrily into the nearby trash bin. The person at the table next to his sent him a wary glance which caused his sudden irritation to irrationally increase. Nevertheless he sat back down and tried in vain to enjoy what was left of his now cold coffee.

This article had greatly annoyed the man for several reasons. One was it's inaccuracy on several details, two was it's obvious gossip angle, three was the clear indication that the mentioned request for privacy was not going to be fulfilled, and lastly was the fact that it was all about him, which made it all very personal.

Harry Potter was sitting in a café in Narita International Airport reading this article and wondering if Japan really was far enough from England or if he should give New Zealand a shot.* Shaking his head wearily and sighing, he admitted to himself that, no even New Zealand wouldn't be far enough. Realizing this he tried to comfort himself with the fact that they probably wouldn't expect him to visit a non-English speaking country.

He had little doubt that those vulture reporters and his rabid fans would search for him. No, they couldn't just leave him alone. They might miss something important, he could tie his shoe laces or go to the grocery store! How could they be expected to miss such vital moments? What if something even remotely interesting happens and they're not there to document it? After all, they have every right to know and obsess over every little detail of _his_ personal life. Saving them all from an evil Dark Lord and continuing to keep them safe as an Auror didn't entitle him to any kind of privacy. Privacy shmivacy!

Thinking and mentally ranting about the unfairness of it all, his thoughts drifted back to the article he just read. It and the many others like it, were all rather unpleasant reminders of all the crap he really didn't want to think about. Letting out a frustrated sigh he allowed his head to drop and hit the table with an audible "thunk!", wincing minutely. Great now he'd have a headache to top it all off.

'Honestly! How's it any of their business what my personal reasons are,' he questioned himself angrily, snorting derisively. "Whirlwind romance," he muttered disgustedly, shaking his head. He and Oliver had been together for two years before they were engaged; he hardly considered that a whirlwind!

"I didn't mean to set that bastard on fire," he continued muttering. Sure the man deserved it, and looking back his girly screams _were_ kind of funny but that didn't mean Harry did it on purpose. No accidental magic, no matter how uncommon in adult wizards, did happen under times of extreme emotional distress. Seeing the person you'd planned to spend the rest of your life with; playing tonsil hockey on the Quidditch pitch, with someone who constantly takes delight in publicly tearing you apart, was just one of those times.

'Really now! They make me sound like a bloody lunatic, so I lost my temper, who wouldn't?' Harry asked himself.

He hadn't believed it at first, thought he was imagining it, or had seen it wrong. For a few minutes he tried to rationalize it, come up with some excuse for why Oliver was kissing another man. He had even tried to convince himself that Oliver hadn't kissed that bastard back, for it wasn't Oliver, as the paper reported that had initiated the kiss.

But Harry couldn't fool himself; and the guilty, frozen, 'dear caught in the head lights' look Oliver had sent him afterward left no room for doubt. He should have seen it coming really, they had been growing distant, their relationship had become strained but he had just never imagined Oliver would ever cheat on him. But he did and after his brain finally caught up with this fact he was burning with red hot anger and betrayal. His ears had been ringing and he was clenching his fists so tightly he had been sure they'd bleed. Not since the war had he felt that angry over anything, or that hurt.

He was going to leave, really he was. Harry had every intention of running out of that stadium, away from the frantic gossip hungry crowd, away from Oliver, and away from the whole situation. He really didn't think that a stadium full of people was quite the place to have the sort of conversation he had in mind. No the conversation he had in mind was best kept away from prying ears and within reach of a bottle of vodka and some castrating shears. But alas Harry's magic did not quite agree as it set about setting 'That Bastard' as Harry had come to refer to him, on fire of it's own volition.

Oh the media had a field day! Having dealt with the press before he probably could have downplayed the whole incident; but then Oliver just had to open his traitorous mouth. He went on a tirade of how the whole thing was Harry's fault for 'neglecting' him. That he couldn't put up with being 'The Harry Potter's' boyfriend anymore, and how dare he set Smith on fire. Harry lost his temper and called Oliver a slut, he responded in kind, calling him the one thing he knew would cut Harry the deepest.

_"Better a slut than a freak!" _even now, a month later, Harry winced at the remembrance of it.

He would never purposely hurt Oliver. But when _that_ word came tumbling out of his mouth Harry was hexing him before he even knew what he was doing. Oliver was just lucky it was_ only_ a Bat-Bogey Hex. He knew exactly what that word meant to Harry. Sure he didn't know all the details, no one ever would if Harry had anything to say about it, but he did know a fair bit about Privet Drive and that particularly hated 'pet name'. It was like being dowsed in cold water and then electrocuted.

Looking back maybe he should have expected it. After all, that years Quidditch World Cup had been rescheduled. It took place on Halloween, of all days, and it seemed Fate would always be consistent with regards to Harry's luck on_ that_ day.

As always the reporters couldn't take a hint and just leave him alone. No they immediately swarmed him vying for an interview, statement, or picture, and well... He needed to get out of there and that reporter was standing in his way. He didn't mean to break his nose, all Harry was thinking about at the time was getting away from that crowd.

He later made it up to the guy. Harry gave him an autograph and a brief interview, under the agreement that he not press charges. Though with the man's hero worship it seemed unlikely that he would have. And even is he had it's doubtful they would have stuck, there were _some_ perks to being the savior after all. He could probably get away with murder if he wanted to, a thought which made Harry cringe.

He had thought it was bad being the Boy-Who-Lived. Someone should have told him it was just practice for being the Man-Who-Vanquished. Harry sighed, everywhere he turned he was attacked with hyphenated names! That and the word '_The_'. Harry hated the word '_The_'; '_The-_Boy-Who-Lived_' _ _The_ Harry Potter', '_The_ Man-Who-Vanquished', '_The_ Prodigy Auror'. He couldn't help but snort at that last one.

Prodigy. It was ridiculous. So he did well in training and got lucky on a few high profile cases, he hardly felt that made him a prodigy. Yes they promoted him to 4th in line for Head Auror but that was just for show. Just office politics and good politics nowadays were to suck up to him. Sure he was good at his job, but so were his colleges. He'd only been an Auror for about two-and-a-half years now, yet everyone expected him to be the next Mad-Eye Moody.

'No, they expect me to be the next Dumbledore,' Harry corrected himself gloomily, 'And they have the nerve to question my work ethics, they'd work hard too if they'd the same expectations of themselves as they do of me.'

He really didn't appreciate them calling him a 'Workaholic' when it was their crazy ideals of how he should be that drove him to it. He worked hard to keep the Wizarding Community safe what more did they want?

Try as he might Harry could never just not care about how the world saw him. Maybe it was years of trying to gain the Dursley's approval, or growing up with people who cared so much about outside appearances but that thirst to prove himself never completely went away.

'I was just dehydrated and tired, wasn't at Mungos for more than two days, just medi-witch smothering, everyone overreacting...,' he asserted as he flinched remembering Mrs. Weasley's reaction.

The second she heard he was at St. Mungos she rushed to his room and started crying, raving about how she always knew being an Auror was too dangerous. Mrs. Weasley had, of course, been expecting the worse, but even after she found out that it was just exhaustion she still insisted that he and Ron's chosen profession was far too dangerous.

Ron, for his part, tried to allay his mothers fears and stop her from hugging the life out of him. Harry could however, see how concerned Ron was as well. For whatever reason ever since Harry started dating Oliver he'd stared acting as this protective big brother to Harry. Ron had liked Oliver well enough, but apparently if Harry was going to date a man Ron was going to 'protect' him like he did Ginny. It was amusing, insulting and disturbing and Harry would often find himself struggling between laughing at or cursing Ron for it.

Ginny had shown up and gave him a real telling off for working too hard. They may not have been able to rekindle their old romance after the war but they still had a great friendship. He could always depend on her to tell him when he was being a self-sacrificing idiot. She could always depend on him to not treat her like some wimpy little princess. They both relied on each other to remind each other that they both had limits, a fault they seemed to share. Neither could admit weakness for their own reasons and were both stubborn to a fault.

It was Hermione's reaction that surprised him the most. He had expected a lecture, what he got was exasperation and acceptance. Apparently she had been expecting this, as unhappy about it as she was. She claimed it was what he always did when faced with emotional situations. Apparently instead of facing his emotions he kept them bottled up and tried to physically exhaust them by obsessing over something else, in this case work.

Harry wanted to argue with this assessment but when he attempted to she started rattling off examples of times he had done so in the past and well he just couldn't deny her logic. He hated it, but as always Hermione was right. She knew him better than he knew himself, which in retrospect wasn't that surprising since Hermione knew everything. She made him promise to take some time off work and he complied.

It's difficult to say just what Hermione had thought would come of his time off, but somehow Harry doubted this was what she had in mind. Two to three weeks into his sick leave he decided to quit his job and leave the country.

He'd laid around with nothing much to do which lead to introspection. This lead to depressive thoughts on where it all went wrong and general questioning of where his life was going at the moment.

Suddenly he just wasn't sure he wanted to be an Auror any longer. He'd fought his fight, hadn't he done his duty? Really he'd had quite enough of fighting. Before he never really put so much thought into his future as all he could see ahead of him was Voldemort. The choice of Auror had seemed the most sensible; had seemed interesting, generally appealing. But on further inspection he came to the startling realization that it wasn't what he wanted any more.

It was as if he just woke up one day and couldn't figure out how he'd gotten where he was. He was shocked to realize how little he enjoyed his life. All he'd ever done in life was try to survive, now he had the time and the resources to live whatever life he wanted. Harry came to a reckless and perhaps panic induced decision after that little epiphany.

So he went to his boss the next day and quit his job. Or at least he tried to anyways. Proudfoot refused to believe him when he said he wanted to quit.

_"Quit! You can't quit, your just going through a rough patch right now,"_ he said, _"Just take some time to straighten out your head Potter your job'll be waiting._".

Although 'indefinite administrative' leave didn't sound quite so dramatic as quitting he supposed it worked, so long as he didn't have to go back. He was serious about quitting but everyone just kept insisting it was a 'career break' and this was all just a 'momentary life crisis'. When he told those closets to him of his intentions to leave Britain Hermione started tossing around phrases like "soul-searching" and "self-discovery", and quoting some some muggle named Oprah.

It was ridiculous. His life was ridiculous!

'Ugh! I shouldn't even be thinking about these things while sober,' Harry told himself morosely.

He raised his left hand up to run along his face, sighing tiredly as he pulled it away. His eyes automatically zeroing in on the silver ring sitting oh so innocently upon his ring finger.

The simple band was engraved with a heart clasped by two hands and surmounted by a crown; a small glass stone sat in the center of the heart, which was pointing away from him. Harry glared at it, he was wearing it wrong, he knew it, their engagement was over. He should move it back to his right hand or stop wearing it all together, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Oliver had been so insistent on wearing Claddagh engagement rings** with mood stones attached. It was apparently all the vogue in magical Britain and unlike muggle mood stone, these ones actually operated on an empathic magical wavelength. As such, many couples connected their rings to the emotional wavelength of their significant others so that they could each know what the other was feeling. Normally it would display varying colors depending on Oliver's mood. Now it only showed black indicating that either Oliver was not wearing his or that he had severed their ring's connections.

What was wrong with him? Oliver had completely disregarded their relationship, regularly for six months, by cheating and was clearly over it. They were over, Harry had ended it himself, so why couldn't he just take the damn thing off? As always, instead of fixing it, Harry just looked away and shoved his hand in his pocket. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he determinedly pushed all these plaguing thoughts away.

'I need to cheer up! I'm in Japan for Merlin's sake! Away from all of... that, I can't just sit here and sulk all day. Ginny might somehow sense it and come all the way here just to kick my arse.' he told himself as he chuckled a bit uneasily not entirely sure if he was kidding or not. Nevertheless he got up, disposed of his coffee, and exited the café.

As he made his way through the crowd to the nearest apparition point, he came to find that people were not half so amusing when amongst them as they were when watching them. As such it was a rather disgruntled Harry that finally extricated himself from the herd.

He stepped through a metal detector no one else seemed to see, feeling the familiar tingle of magic as he passed through a barrier. On the other side was a pretty Asian witch in official looking robes with a badge that read "Narita Transportation Regulator". She smiled widely as she greeted him with a bubbly and well rehearsed sounding speech.

"Hello and welcome to Narita International Magical Transportation Station! My name's Keiko. How can I help you today?"

"Oh, um, hello. I er, just need to get to the apparition point" he answered in, near perfect Japanese, eying her oddly, slightly taken aback by the aggressively energetic greeting. He couldn't help but marvel at how well the translating charm worked. If he didn't know any better he'd have thought they were both speaking in English, for all it sounded that way to him. He rather disliked the itchiness it caused his throat, but he supposed he'd get used to it over time.

He nervously tugged on his bangs to cover his forehead. He needn't have bothered his scar was already covered with muggle makeup, but it had become a nervous habit of his over the years.

Harry was very glad he wasn't as famous in Japan as he was back home. It was one of the many reasons he had chosen to come here, as long as he kept his scar covered he didn't think he'd be recognized. He hated having to wear makeup, if Ron heard about it he'd never hear the end of it, but if all it took was a wound to his manly pride to blend in he'd gladly do so.

Unfazed by his apparent discomfort she lead him to the designated apparation point chatting animatedly about the sight seeing in magical Japan.

"- and you should check out the Koi Ponds in Kyoto, but be careful, there have been reports of Kappa's running a muck-"

"Actually, I'm going to be spending most of my time in the muggle parts of Japan, " Harry informed her, surprised anyone could talk as much or as fast as Hermione. She even seemed to have mastered the art of not needing to pause for breath. It was rather amusing and made him feel a bit at home.

"Oh? I've heard about some odd happenings going on in muggle Tokyo lately, there was some big secrecy scare over it," she said. She seemed excited to have someone to gossip to.

Genuinely curious Harry asked for more details, "Really? I hadn't heard, what was it about? Nothing serious I hope."

"Oh no, the papers have already confirmed it was a false alarm, apparently the muggles just found a new way to kill each other that just happened to resemble magic," she answered.

"There was some sort of heart attack epidemic amongst all these muggle criminals and they think it was caused by some sort of vigilante. A muggleborn friend of mine was just telling me all about it the other day. She went to visit her parents over the weekend and some guy was killed on those odd story portraits they have, you know those tel-o-vision boxy things that play stories on them..." she stopped as though afraid he might not know what she was talking about.

With an amused smile he nodded his head "I've heard of them," he confirmed never ceasing to be amused by the magical community's views on the Television. They always spoke of it, as though it were some obscure mythical artifact.

With a nod she continued, "Well anyway it caused this whole media frenzy they even gave the vigilante a name, I can't remember it now, started with a 'K' I think..." here she paused, tilting her head with a concentrated look on her face as she tried to remember.

Harry's curiosity was peaked. What could the muggles have invented to cause heart attacks that would make the ministry suspect magic?

He hadn't been in touch with most of the muggle world in a long time, besides Hermione's parents, with whom he visited and talked to on many occasions through Hermione and his cousin Dudley, with whom he'd created a tentative but friendly reconnection to. He knew he lacked knowledge in muggle technology but this seemed like something he'd have heard of, or at the very least Hermione would have.

'If one of the victims was on TV when they were killed, that would mean it was probably done from far away.' He couldn't imagine the vigilante getting away with it if they were nearby or recorded doing it. How could a vigilante, as in one person cause an epidemic of heart attacks? Just how many people had this person killed? How does one purposely induce a heart attack from a distance in a number of people? 'What brought the ministry's attention to it in the first place,' he questioned.

The gears in Harry's head were turning as he thought about the things he had just learned. She was pretty vague, he'd have to look into it, maybe he could pull some strings and get a copy of the ministry file... 'Wait! No! Stop right there Potter, you're on vacation, you are not an Auror now you're just here to relax!' he chided himself.

It was none of his business. How many times had he gotten himself into trouble because something mysterious caught his attention? No sir, not this time, this was his time off, his escape. He was not _The Harry Potter_ here, he was just Harry and Harry was determined to keep it that way.

Over the years he had learned something very important about himself.

When he got interested in something he got involved and once involved his obsessive nature wouldn't let him rest until he figured it all out.

Harry was decidedly not going to give this mysterious vigilante case any thought, because if he did he knew somehow he would become involved in someway. Be it fate, circumstance, or by design; willingly or otherwise he'd get dragged into it and it would be the end of his relaxing vacation. Nope, he was not thinking about it, not at all.

He was drawn out of his 'not thinking' by that woman, Keiko he believed her name was. She shook herself out of her own thoughts and pointed at two stalls they stopped in front of.

The sign above one read "International Travel" and the other said "Other local".

"Well here you are, just enter the 'Other Local' stall," she stated, pointing to the booth on the left.

"Since you're going to a muggle populated area you'll need to apparate within the specified apparition points unless licensed to do otherwise, inside there's a map detailing where the apparition point nearest to where your destined location should be. We at Narita International, and on behalf of the Japanese Ministry for Magic, would like to thank you for your cooperation and hope you enjoy your stay," she finished off with a cheerful flourish, a polite bow and a wide smile.

"Thank you very much Keiko-san it's been nice meeting you," he said bowing back with grin as he as he entered the stall and disappeared with a quiet "Pop.".

Left on her own, blushing slightly, Keiko thought about the cute foreigner. He seemed so familiar. She just couldn't put her finger on it, but she'd seen him somewhere before. While trying to figure it out she realized he hadn't given her his name.

'That's too bad he was kinda cute, ah well he was probably taken anyways,' she lamented with a sigh. She than noticed someone vying for her assistance and just shrugged the whole thing off.

Hours later, Harry was getting settled in his hotel room and watching a news report on the same vigilante case he was _not_ going to think about.

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**Authors Note: **Well there we go the beginning of my story. What do you think? I think it's got potential but I fear my own opinion is biased and might be warped by fan-girl delusion. Should I continue? I probably will regardless but reassurance would be comforting.

*Points to anyone who gets the geographical reference to New Zealand.

**Claddagh ring's are traditional Irish rings which are very symbolic and can indicate your relationship status depending on how you wear them.

Right hand: Heart facing away from wearer = Single, Facing toward = In a relationship

Left hand: Heart facing away from wearer = Engaged, Heart facing toward = Married

They'll be mentioned and explained more, later in the story as well.

Well anyways, you should review and let me know what you think!


	2. Second Thoughts, Bar Fights, and Friends

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. ****No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I ****own nothing. Oh I also don't own Jack Daniels (I'm not even old enough to drink it let alone own it) nor anything else you might recognize.**

**_Authors Note:_**_ I am beyond shocked and flattered at the response I've gotten to this story. Just WOW! Thanks to those who've reviewed that was awesome! Also thanks to those who put this on their favorites and/or their story alerts, or in their communities. I'm telling you it was crazy seeing all the email alerts in my in-box. I'm sorry it took so long to get this out but my computer had a bit of a meltdown or rather part of the drive thingy melted. I don't really know all the details, I just know it made threatening noises, smelled like it was burning and shut down at random intervals but it's fixed now (until I somehow manage to break it with my computer idiocy.) I've gotten this typed out and proof read pretty fast, but not as thoroughly as last time so if the errors in this chapter are humongous I apologize in advance. I had thought to do some of this chapter from L's perspective, to show where he was in the story right now, but I've decided to hold off on that and possibly give him a chapter of his own, so no L yet. Harry will however be making a Death Note friend!  
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_ Oh and to Catzi, no the geographical reference I made to New Zealand in the last chapter was not aimed at Lord of the Rings (though that was a rather odd coincidence) No, I and by extension Harry, were referring to the fact that the south east of New Zealand is the antipodal point of London, that is the exact opposite of the world, the farthest Harry could possibly get from Britain without actually leaving the planet._

_Well on with the story...  
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**"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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_**Chapter Two:** **_Second Thoughts, Bar Fights, and Friendships _**

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It had been several weeks since Harry had first arrived in Japan and he was bored. Correction he was bored, irritated, lonely, and thoroughly conflicted.

He had done some sightseeing, tried new things, eaten raw fish (an experience he would not soon be repeating); but somehow he just wasn't satisfied.

Currently Harry was laying sprawled out in bed, staring at the television. It was, yet again another news report on this vigilante, who Harry now knew was named Kira. It would seem that Kira was all you could ever hear about on the telly these days. It did absolutely nothing for his resolve to stay out of it.

It was stupid really. As far as the ministry was concerned it was a muggle case, hardly his business. Who was he to say they were wrong? There was no real reason for him to get involved. This Kira person was only killing criminals and although it rubbed Harry the wrong way; it didn't quite rile up his hero complex as much as innocent victims would have. True he found it interesting, but it really didn't have anything to do with him.

He tried to just forget the whole thing. To leave it up to whomever was in charge, but every time he heard about it he got this peculiar feeling like there was something more to it. For some reason it just tugged at mind demanding his attention. It was that nagging feeling as though he were missing something; his gut was telling him to take a look.

Normally Harry listened to his instincts, they were usually pretty good. They certainly had saved his neck more times than he could count. But in this case he just wasn't sure he could trust them. Every time he started to give in to his gut the voice of reason in his head, the one that sounded so much like Hermione, would ask, 'Is there really more to it Harry? Or do you just want there to be more?'. Than he would start to doubt himself and question his instincts.

Similarly when Harry wrote his obligatory 'I'm still alive' letters to his family back home, all he did was vaguely mention the case before Hermione sent him a prompt response. It was a three page long lecture on the evils of giving into curiosity and getting involved in murder investigations while on vacation. She than went and told on him to Mrs. Weasley, who actually sent him a howler for not relaxing on vacation. Harry couldn't help but feel it was rather counterproductive to the relaxing process. Especially as he had to try and explain the blaring shouts to all the people staying on the same floor as him.

Even Andromeda got on his case in her weekly Teddy update letters she'd been sending him. Being a Slytherin she really had a knack for passive aggressive guilt trips.

As such, Harry was putting forth a conscientious effort to not think about the Kira case, it wasn't going so well. He'd already confirmed that the Japanese Ministry had investigated and closed the case. He just barely stopped himself from getting a copy of their findings.

Over the years he'd grown accustomed to always doing something. Whether it be work or family he was always active. He'd get up early and be the first in the office. He was the last to leave as he worked late nights trying to piece together his cases. He was the guy who camped out in the Auror Office, case files scattered around his cubicle; dictating a report to a recording quill, while simultaneously flipping through pieces of evidence. He would be surrounded by paper airplane memos rocketing around his head and noisy coworkers discussing anything and everything.

When he wasn't at work he would meet up with any number of the Weasley's and- his- well his _ex-_boyfriend and go out drinking, play Quidditch or just hang out.

And every weekend he'd have little Teddy over to stay with him for godson-godfather bonding time.

He had responsibilities, obligations, a social life, and public functions people constantly dragged him too; always a busy schedule.

Now, with his days so dreadfully free, how could he be sure he wasn't just making more of this Kira thing than there really was? Maybe he just wanted some mysterious case to come along and distract him from the things he really should be focusing on. Like relaxing and putting his life back together.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh as he grabbed the remote and turned off the television. Dropping it on the bed, he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling of his hotel room and let his thoughts wonder to the things he should be thinking about.

There was work, and there was family, and friends, and... now he was homesick. Tossing an arm over his eyes he sighed and asked himself, 'Should I go back? Do I even want too?'

He thought of his godson, his cub was growing so fast. Harry smiled thinking of the mini marauder and all the mischief he was probably causing. His smile dissolved though, as he thought about all he was missing out on.

Ron was probably torturing poor Hermione with hours of Quidditch talk now that he wasn't there to endure Ron's Chudley Cannons obsession. He thought of dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow, of George and the joke shop. He missed going to the pubs with Ginny, never could you find a more entertaining drunk. And he hardly knew how to operate properly without Hermione's mothering. He was so used to her organizing his schedule and reminding him to eat and sleep.

It was so very tempting to go back to all of that. But than he remembered the crazed fans that riffled through his rubbish, mobbed him in the streets or tried to steal his knickers.

'What use could they possibly have for my pants?' he now questioned before shuddering and deciding he didn't want to know.

He was a celebrity in Britain; people constantly watched him, photographed his every move, stared and pointed.

As much as he missed his family and as lonely as he felt, he loved that he could just leave the hotel; go wherever he wanted and not have to worry about being recognized. He didn't think he'd ever get over the thrill of being able to talk to someone without them gaping at his forehead.

Just the other day he had bumped into some rude woman on the street. "Who do you think you think you are, not watching where your going! Kids these days no respect...," she had ranted and all Harry could do was beam at her for her dismissive attitude. He was inordinately pleased any time he could just make small talk with someone without being berated with questions or stared at with awe. He knew it was pathetic but being just another face in the crowd was what he had always wanted. He just wanted to be normal, to blend in and after all these years of fame, to be left alone.

Away from home, he was free to enjoy those personal liberty's that so many people took for granted. The ability to just exist without being put under a microscope. To trip on his shoe laces and not have to read about how 'The Harry Potter' must have been drunk, in a magazine the next day. To feel free to chat with a person and not worry about it showing up in Witches Weekly as his newest love interest. To not have to question a person's motive for talking to him or if his choice of words were politically correct. He was just Harry here and he was loving it. Here, without his history constantly trailing behind him, he could blend in just fine.

Besides the freedom of being just Harry, there was also this great weightless feeling. There were no deadlines to meet or people whose safety depended on you. No having to feel so utterly exhausted. His time was not filled with working early mornings filling out tedious reports, to late nights patrolling.

If Harry was being honest, he'd admit that his job as an Auror didn't even interest him half the time. Sure every once in awhile a mysterious case would pop up that would grab his attention. But once it was over it was back to domestic disputes and bureaucratic technicalities.

Who knew the Wizarding world could be so mundane?

Harry certainly didn't, when imagining the work of an Auror he hadn't really considered the copious amounts of paperwork, or all the politics involved.

The Auror's were capable, three years of training prepared them to do amazing things; in times of peace it was all rather wasted. They were civil servants. And Harry especially, was usually employed in the political aspect of the job. You couldn't be the savior and head of both the Potter and Black families without getting dragged into politics. Hermione's pursuit in changing the world one house elf at a time hadn't helped him avoid the political arena either. After all if Harry Potter was backing a movement it must be the _light_ thing to do.

Proudfoot, his boss, was always very specific about the jobs he assigned to him because those would be the ones that got the most attention. If Harry Potter was linked to an investigation the reporters were all over it. Thus Harry was always given either uninteresting grunt work to keep him 'modest' or high profile cases which were few and far between and expected to be finished in a hurry.

There were so many case he couldn't work because it could bring unwanted attention to them. He never got to go undercover even though he could disguise himself and field work was usually left to others as his fans sometimes showed up and got in the way. Between what few cases he was allowed to participate in, he often questioned if he really saved anyone or did anyone any good.

'They make it all sound so much more glamorous than it is,' he thought, slightly bitterly. He removed his arm from covering his face to glare up at the white ceiling. 'I should of just became a politician for all the good I accomplish.' He rolled his eyes, "Or a secretary, I'm practically one already with all the paperwork I do" he grumbled aloud to himself.

It was so frustrating to have no anonymity.

The most ridiculous part of it all was that it had been six years since he'd defeated Riddle. Six years and his fame had yet to diminish, if anything it grew. He supposed it made sense, the last time he'd made Tom disappear his fame had held out for ten years while he wasn't even there. Now he'd actually defeated him in front of witnesses and stuck around as a public figure. He was an image, he'd become the next Dumbledore without even realizing it. The Wizarding world was not going to let him go, he was their symbol of hope during the war and the defeater of the Dark Lord. He would be their hero whether he wanted to or not. Becoming an Auror only seemed to cement that fact.

Of course, admitting he had the Elder Wand hadn't helped his case any either. Yes, that was not one of his brighter moments, during that final show down with Riddle the crowd heard all about the wand. And like any information at Hogwarts, it later spread like wildfire.

He made it very clear to anyone who asked that he didn't have it any more, but they didn't believe him. That or they somehow deluded themselves into thinking he was so powerful he didn't need the wand. Of the two the first was actually right. He did have the wand, but that didn't mean he used it and he certainly didn't want them to know about it.

Harry was perfectly happy with his own wand and had every intention of returning the elder wand to Dumbledore's grave. The wand itself however had other ideas.

The magic of the Deathly Hallows, Harry had come to learn, was a very tricky thing and apparently you couldn't just unite the Hallows and walk away. A magical bond had been formed and it threw a real wrench into his plans. Harry thought he could just leave that stone in the forest and the wand at Hogwarts and go about his merry way, he should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Rolling over, Harry grabbed the Elder Wand from the nightstand to his right, before laying back down to continue staring at the white expanse above his bed, absently twirling the wand as he thought.

When he woke up in Gryffindor tower, the day after the war, he had gotten up to brush his teeth. And what should he have found in his right hand but the elder wand in place of his tooth brush! He tried to shake it off as an odd quirk of magic or some kind of delusion but that was not to be. When he later went to take a shower instead of the bar of soap that was just there moments before he found the Resurrection Stone. Harry chuckled as he remembered how he'd panicked and threw the stone, it had bounced off the wall and hit him in the head. It wasn't very entertaining at the time, but looking back Harry had to admit that the many failed attempts to get rid of the blasted things were funny. Apparently Magic had a sense of humor and those particular objects seemed to love to mock him. Eventually he admitted defeat and just kept them.

Their practically sentiment existence and stubborn refusal to leave him alone weren't the only effects from this whole Master of Death situation either. No events like this mark a person, in this instance in a physical way. Harry discovered an odd scar over his heart that hadn't been there before the final battle.

It was a vertical line symbolizing the Elder Wand, inside a circle symbolizing the Resurrection Stone, inside a triangle symbolizing the Invisibility Cloak; the Deathly Hallows mark. Whenever he touched one of those accursed objects the scar turned black.

It was, needless to say, a rather distinctive mark that Harry felt rather advertised his connection to the Hallows. Which he was not at all comfortable with. He didn't really think there was much likelihood of him touching the Hallows, without his shirt on, in public, but nevertheless he tried everything he could think of to cover it up. Constant Vigilance and all that. Unfortunately nothing seemed to work, even when he polyjuiced into someone else the scar and the mark still appeared.

Luckily Ginny came up with a solution for it one night when they were out drinking. Her idea was to just get a tattoo to cover it up. Although they were sure that a tattoo couldn't completely cover up the scar when it blackened; Ginny thought that if they made the tattoo incorporate the Hallow symbol while making it seem like it was something else it would distract the few people who would actually recognize it. And so Harry got his first, and if Mrs. Weasley had any say in it, his last tattoo.

Harry stopped twirling the wand, setting it down on the bed. Instead he looked down at the left side of his bare chest at his tattoo, it really did have a lot of symbolic meaning. Even if he didn't have anything to cover up he'd still want this tattoo. It had the the Hallow symbol but the corners of the triangle had small circles over top of them. The top corner's circle had the name Prongs inscribed with the outline of a stage, the bottom right corner read Padfoot with a grim and the left had Moony with a werewolf howling at a moon. The vertical line had a lily wrapped around it (a very manly lily mind you) and the whole thing had another circle going around it. The words "I Solemnly Swear" written above the tattoo and than "That I'm Up To No Good" beneath it. It was a living memorial to the marauders and his mother and sufficiently distracted from the Hallow symbol. When he was touching a Hallow and the scar blackened it was barely discernible through the inked lines unless you were looking _very_ closely. So it was well hidden, after all who was staring that closely at his chest?

'Oliver,' Harry's traitorous mind supplied, memories of all the times Oliver would just stare at his tattoo popping into his head.

'He really did like my tattoo' he smiled sadly only to be replaced by a scowl, 'Wonder if that Smith bastard has a better tattoo.'

He than huffed in annoyance for comparing himself to that bastard. 'Oliver wouldn't cheat just because of a tattoo,' he told himself.

But than why did he? What was it about himself that made him so unlovable?

'Don't be stupid,' he told himself 'You've got Hermione and Ron and the rest of the Weasley's not to mention Teddy, they all love me,' he asserted. He knew this now, they made sure he knew. They were family, they loved him. He was _not_ unlovable, he was not a _freak_.

So than what was Oliver's problem?

Harry sighed and asked himself the same question that had continued to plague his thoughts since their break up.

'What did I do wrong?'

Was it really his fault that Oliver had cheated? He had always been busy with work, did he neglect Oliver, drive him away? Could he really blame him for not wanting to be Harry Potter's boyfriend? Harry himself was now running from the attention. Was it hypocritical to condemn Oliver for not wanting all that bother just for him? Harry would never claim to be the most romantically inclined person, in fact he was quite romantically inept. Didn't Oliver deserve better than emotionally damaged goods?

'Maybe, but I deserved better than being cheated on,' he thought tiredly, letting out a sigh. Logically he knew that, now if only he could convince his heart.

He rolled over unto his side to stare at the gaudy painting on the wall. It had a bunch of naked midgets, er, maybe they were just ugly cherubs, dancing around a tree. He rolled around to his other side decidedly glad muggle portraits didn't talk and stared at the clock instead.

It was 10:00 pm.

10:00 pm, in Tokyo, on vacation, and he was sitting in his hotel room moping. That just wouldn't do. He had to get out of here; go out for a drink maybe?

Nodding to himself he decided that a good drink or two (or eight) might be just what he needed. He got up and dressed tossing on a dark green tee shirt and a black, wool, v-neck sweater; he already had on a pair of dark jeans that he felt were nice enough to go out in. So after going to the bathroom to valiantly try to comb out his hair, he gathered his coat and made his way out of the hotel.

He had seen a nice enough looking bar just down the street the day before, it was quiet but not awkwardly empty. It was also rather westernized which he supposed defeated the purpose of being in Tokyo. But he'd had enough of the Japanese experience, he needed something closer to home. He would have a few drinks, relax, make some more small talk, and revel in the normalcy of it all.

When he stepped into the place he noticed it was fairly crowded but had an all around laid back feeling. He took a seat at the bar, as there were no tables open, and attempted to waved down the bartender. He was scanning the crowds with vague interest when his ears caught the sound of a rather distinct American accent and his eyes where drawn to the little table to his left.

It was a man in his late twenty's, he looked rather tired, frustrated even. He had a long face and Harry guessed he must have been of mixed Asian and American decent. Sitting across from him was an equally frustrated looking woman with black hair and a heart shaped face. Although they were both holding hands they seemed to be arguing about something. Harry couldn't hear them very well from where he sat.

'Not my business anyways, when did I get so nosy?' Harry thought, 'that determined look she's got reminds me of Ginny though, poor guy doesn't stand a chance.'

As he turned back to the bar though, he couldn't help but smile at the way they kept holding each others hands throughout their argument. They both had that undeniable look of love. It was that dopey look of worship couples have in their eyes when looking at each other, even when fighting. They made a nice couple.

The bar tender, a lanky looking young man who strongly reminded him of Stan Shunpike, asked for his order. He opened his mouth to ask for a beer but was distracted when the man from before stood abruptly, a determined look on his face and rushed out the door. The woman was left looking depressed and then preceded to place her face tiredly in her hands. The small smile he had disappeared. When the bar tender called for his attention once more Harry turned his gaze back to him, but not before catching sight of the silver glint of his ring.

"I'll have a Jack Daniels," he said as he shoved his left hand in his coat pocket and then added, "on the rocks". There, now he needn't feel guilty, it was watered down. Harry snorted at himself, who was he kidding he was going to leave this bar pissed. Ice never seemed to help him with Firewhiskey and he doubted this would be any different.

Letting out a sigh, he took a sip of his drink as his eyes wondered the room once more. There was general merriment and it seemed he wasn't the only foreigner drawn to the westernized appeal.

There was a hansom blond a few tables down who appeared to be checking him out. Harry tried not to look too pleased with himself when the guy winked at him. Harry looked away to hide his grin, 'Well that's flattering' he couldn't help but think, but then his grin turned a bit sad, 'flattering but impossible'. He took another large sip of his drink, pointedly not looking the blond's way.

That's when he noticed some ugly lush leaning over the woman from before. The man was hefty, balding, and apparently couldn't take a hint as he determinately ignored her lack of interest in whatever pathetic pickups he was doubtlessly employing. The lady seemed to be getting increasingly annoyed at the drunks persistence, much to the amusement of the drunkard's friends who were all laughing uproariously at his failure.

Harry frowned however, he didn't like how they were crowding her. 'Get a clue already, she's not interested.'.

The drunk brushed some of her hair behind her ear much to her apparent discomfort. Harry's eyes narrowed no he really did not like this.

The man then leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was it really set her off; she jumped out of her seat and slapped him. She grabbed her purse and made to leave but the drunk stood in her way. He than went to grab her arm. Harry was out of his seat and next to them in a flash, putting himself between her and the man.

"There a problem here gentlemen?" he asked glaring down the man and his friends keeping alert for the first sign of a fight.

"No prob'em jus make'n friends," slurred the drunk with a hazy scowl, swaying as he backed away from Harry.

"She's already got a friend and if the slapping early didn't clue you in, I don't think she wants any more," Harry responded firmly, eyes narrowed, mouth set into a frown.

In his mind though he was wondering why he'd just insinuated they were friends, maybe they could be friends after this. He pondered that, quite fond of the idea of finally making a friend in Japan; when he noticed the drunk seemed ready to argue.

'Well aren't you persistent,' Harry thought as he watched some of the man's friends start to argue with the guy about leaving.

The bar tender just seemed to be watching the whole scene frozen, as though not knowing what to do.

'Probably hasn't been bar tending very long then' Harry thought as he turned his attention back to the hefty drunk.

Looking him over, he appeared middle aged and about to pass out anytime now; Harry was sure he could take him without magic.

Than he was suddenly struck with the thought of how hilarious Ginny would find him getting into a muggle bar fight.

Harry sighed, and this was how he relaxed on vacation? He was going to get another howler. Or arrested by the muggle authorities; wouldn't that just do him a load of good. He'd have to alert the Japanese Ministry of his arrest as was protocol, and it would leak somehow, it always does. Then it's front page news, he could just see the headlines now: "Potter in Muggle Prison: Boy Who Lived to Bar Fight".

Slowly Harry let the irritation fill him as he thought of how much this drunken moron could screw up his vacation. The swelling anger must have shown on his face, because the men slowly started tensing up and some even backed away from him. The woman herself, who had remained silent as she observed where this was going, looked rather nervous at the anger Harry was sure was now radiating off of him.

People had always said he was an open book with his emotions and had his mother's temper.

He really wanted to curse this guy, his hand was just itching for the wand, secured in the disillusioned holster to his side. But he knew he couldn't, well, he could but the Obliviators at the Japanese Ministry for magic would not be at all pleased if he did.

So instead, he reined in his anger, turned on the bright smile he usually saved for politicians, and started acting the role of peace keeper.

The man and his friends seemed rightly confused and at least one of them seemed slightly scared by the swift mood shift.

"We're all adults here," Harry started, his eyes took in the rumpled business suits the men were wearing 'Ah office drowns' he thought.

"We all came here to get drunk and wind down from a hard days work I'm sure," he continued in a complying voice. "I think we've all just gotten a bit worked up because we're not drunk enough yet,".

That seemed to throw them off. Pausing, he smiled as he raised his hand to point at the main drunk.

"To fix this you'll apologize to the lady for being too friendly," Harry than gestured to the woman who looked confused by the turn of events and annoyed at the way he had phrased that.

"She'll accept your apology," Harry glanced at her, quickly catching her rebellious look. He continued before she could let out whatever scathing response she was surely about to spout.

"And for being such a good sport I'll buy you and your friends a round at the bar and we'll all pretend we had a great night!" he gestured to the bar. The bartender let out a squeak when they all turned to look at him. Harry tried not to laugh.

"What do you say?" Harry finished, raising an eye brow, tilting his head toward the bar. He slipped a warning tone into the last part hoping the arse would just take the offer without things turning into a big production.

The guy seemed unsure at first, but after some urging from his more sober companions he relented. He apologized, doing a fairly half-arsed version of a bow, clearly not all that sorry. However the woman herself gave a rather lackluster show of forgiveness and muttered something sounding suspiciously like bastard under her breath.

Harry wasn't about to nitpick, he ordered the group of idiots a round of drinks and turned to the woman who had yet to leave.

He opened his mouth to introduce himself and apologize on behalf of the male gender but she interrupted him.

"I didn't need any help," she insisted practically pouting at him, arms crossed looking less like an adult and more like a two year old.

Harry couldn't help it he burst out laughing. She had, had such a serious, tough, cool, look about her before and yet now she was sulking like a toddler. And the way she said that, it was just such a Ginny thing to say; his earlier comparison of the two came back to him and he laughed all the harder. He had felt homesick, had missed going to the pub with Ginny, and than who should he end up saving at a bar but Ginny's Asian reincarnation.

The woman just gave him this annoyed look thinking he was laughing at her earlier assertion; her huff of irritation just made Harry laugh more. He did try to quell his laughter and explain though.

"S-sorry it's just ha-ha-ha-ha- I-ha- you-ha-ha- remind me of a friend- a-ha-ha-ha-ha- that look," he pointed at her face "What you said-" more laughter, "not that funny- just- fate!"

At the look she gave him, one that clearly stated what she though of his mental state, he calmed down enough to attempt to explain himself.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, you just remind me of a friend of mine I was thinking about earlier, just an odd coincidence,"

She still looked at him funny, "Sorry, just haven't had much to laugh at lately," he muttered embarrassed, looking down at the drink in his hands, thinking that may have had something to do with it too. Apparently she thought so too for she sent a disapproving look to his glass of Whiskey.

"Hey I am_ not_ drunk," Harry defended himself in a surprisingly teasing tone and a pout of his own. She looked disbelieving. "If I were drunk could I have diffused that situation?" he continued nodding his head to the group of drunks.

He could see she was trying not to smile as she responded, "Your solution was to get them more to drink."

Harry tilted his head and gave her the conciliatory grin he usually reserved for Hermione when she disapproved of something, "But it worked didn't it?". She smiled at that one.

"So it did," she conceded, "And even though it wasn't necessary, thank you all the same."

"Your welcome" he responded amused. "My name's Harrison but please call me Harry, Harry Evans" he told her, extending a hand to shake.

While here in Japan, Harry had opted to go under a different name so as not to arouse any attention from those who might be looking for him. He also had a hunch about the Kira case that just made it all around safer to have an alias. All his paperwork said Harrison Evans. He felt it would only be obvious to those who specifically knew his mother's maiden name and George's new favorite nickname for him. Why George found referring to him as Harrison amusing he'd never understand, he thought maybe there was an inside joke he didn't know about. Either way it was close enough to his own name so that he could still be just Harry, yet different enough to hide behind.

She looked at him for a second like she suspected he was holding back before taking his hand to shake.

"My name's Naomi Mi-aki, Naomi Miaki" she responded.

Harry gave her a pointed look for a second, she hesitated on her last name, it seemed like she was going to say something else.

'But why?' he questioned. Looking at her, he could see she seemed somewhat vexed by her slip up, though she was hiding it well; Harry was trained to notice these things. He decided to shrug it off though, he was giving her a false name so who was he to complain?

"It was nice to meet you Evans-san-"

"Please call me Harry"

"Harry-san, but I should be going, my fiance is probably worried"

Harry flinched, the word fiance was a biting one for him, but at the same time he smiled. So they were engaged, he was glad they looked good together.

"Of course, I think I should probably leave as well before I get into another bar fight."

"Indeed," she responded with a smirk.

They both made their way to the door, stepping onto the side walk outside, they turned toward each other to say goodbye before they went there separate ways.

"Good evening Miaki-"

"If I call you Harry-san you should call me Naomi," she interrupted.

"My apologies, Good Evening Naomi-san," Harry said before smirking and adding "Try not to slap anyone on the way home."

They both laughed before they prepared to go their separate ways. That is until they both turned right and started going in the same direction.

Naomi frowned at him as she asked "Are you following me?"

Startled Harry answered, "No of course not, my hotel's this way, are you following me?" he countered looking at her suspiciously, she didn't look like a stalker. But then again, half of them didn't until they were hiding in your closet, building a shrine out of a lock of your hair and the pants you threw out the week before.

"What hotel are you staying at?" she asked.

He wondered why she was so defensive and wondering if he should give out such information, but decided to answer anyways. He named his hotel and wouldn't you know it, she and her fiance were staying at the same one. Again with the odd coincidences. Well this was just positively providential maybe he really would be making a new friend today.

They walked back together after finally establishing that neither was stalking the other and found they got along quite well. Although Harry was just getting back into the muggle world and thus not up to date on all the recent events, it didn't seem to impede their conversation. Indeed they seemed to have a lot in common and ended up chatting like old friends.

Harry learned that Naomi used to work for the FBI before retiring to start a family. Family was very important to her but she was also a workaholic which was why she had to choose definitively which one to dedicate to.

They both shared that struggle between family and work.

Harry told her about his failed relationship with Oliver which surprised him as he'd hardly spoken to anyone about it. It felt good to talk about, especially with someone who wasn't involved, someone who could just look at from an objective stand point. He even told her about quitting his job, though he avoided actually putting a name to what he did. He suspected she understood, if only vaguely what kind of job he had, had from what little he mentioned. She was pretty perceptive. He changed the subject to something else.

"I- Well I did see your fiance before he left actually," Harry admitted during their conversation, tactfully leaving out that he'd noticed them arguing.

"Oh? Well his name's Ray, he was raised in America. We normally live in America, but we came to Japan to visit my parents," she blushed a little, "you probably noticed us arguing".

Harry was about to deny it but she quickly started to talk again.

"It's no big deal or anything, it's not like we usually argue, it's just we're both really stubborn, and stressed, and this whole situation with Ki-" she cut herself off flustered, seemingly saying more than she meant to.

Harry froze, she was about to say Kira, he knew it. And then something clicked. That was why she hid her real name, she must have noticed Kira needed a name and a face.

It was a theory Harry had formed about Kira (not that he was forming theories about Kira, because he was not involved, not at all). But from what little he had found out in passing he came to the conclusion that Kira couldn't just kill anyone he wanted. After watching a rerun of the Lind L. Tailor incident it became apparent. Kira killed Tailor but not L, meaning there were limits to Kira's powers. It made Harry wonder if maybe Kira needed a face and/or a name to kill.

Than, one day he noticed that a few of the names of Kira's victims, mentioned on the news sounded familiar. Next thing he knew, Harry was writing down the names of the criminals mentioned on the news and checking them off as they were named Kira's next victims. He only killed the ones whose pictures and names were on the news. It confirmed his theory, er his vague idea. Most definitely not a theory, no he was not forming theories. He was not investigating this case.

Harry shook his head to diffuse his denial filled thoughts as he sneaked a look at Naomi. They were both walking along quietly nearing the hotel, she was decidedly ignoring what she'd just said. She than broke the silence by changing the subject; asking him what he planed to do while here in Japan, detailing some of her own plans. Thus absent, halfhearted, small talk was established; each obviously busy thinking about something else.

'What does she know about Kira? More importantly why does she know it?' Then it struck him 'She said she used to be an FBI agent, was she lying about retiring? Were the FBI involved in the Kira case?'

It seemed probable but he didn't think she was lying about retiring. She seemed genuine enough when they had been talking and besides, why would she even admit to once being FBI if she was undercover? Maybe she was just interested in the case like he was, fell into that old occupational instinct, a slave to her own curiosity.

He nodded it made sense, but still he had a lingering feeling that there was something more to it.

'She was going to say 'this whole situation with Kira'.' Just professional curiosity wasn't what one would refer to as a 'situation' though. 'She made it sound closer to home, like the case effected their relationship personally somehow.'

Harry continued to sneak looks at her as he thought, contributing a bit more to their conversation. Finally they made their way into the hotel lobby where Naomi's fiance was waiting.

He immediately ran to Naomi and hugged her apologizing for their fight earlier and asking why she'd taken so long to get back. It was clear he had been worried sick about her. It was sweet, and it made Harry's heart ache. He decided to slip away not wanting to ruin the moment but that was not to be. Naomi suddenly remember he was there and hurried to introduce him to her fiance, telling him all about how Harry helped her at the bar.

"Thank you for helping _my fiance,_ my name's Ray- Iwamatsu"

There was only the briefest of hesitation before the last name. Harry wouldn't have caught it, had he not been expecting it. 'So he knows to hide his name too, but do they believe they're actual targets for Kira or are they just being paranoid? Why do they think Kira would want to kill them?' They certainly didn't strike him as criminals, 'Naomi used to be FBI though, professional caution maybe just being careful? Maybe...' Drifting away from thoughts of Kira, he couldn't help but be amused at the possessive tone the man used when referred to Naomi. Or how he had his arm wrapped securely around her waist.

'How to let him know I'm not after his fiance?' Harry questioned himself.

"It was no problem Iwamatsu-san, I'm very glad I met Naomi-san," Harry allowed himself a mental laugh at the way the man's eyes narrowed at that before continuing, staring him straight in the eye he said, "She reminds me a lot of my adopted _sister_, your very lucky to have her.".

Harry than went in for the kill, dragging his eyes very obviously over Ray's form and smirking "Of course she's pretty lucky too". Harry than pretended to mutter making sure it was loud enough for Ray to hear, "Why are all the good men taken?"

Harry's eyes were drawn to Naomi as she out a strangled laugh, than switching over to her now bright red fiance. He had to try very hard to hide his amusement and hold back his laughter as he said goodbye.

"Well, I er, ought to be going now, good night than, Naomi-san, Iwama-"

"Y-you can call me Ray, I mean, since you call Naomi by her name and all..." Ray trailed off awkwardly, still a shade of red Harry had thought was only achievable by a Weasley.

Harry smile, "Ray-san, have a nice evening." He turned to start toward the elevator, but was stopped by Naomi calling after him.

"Harry-san what do you say to having lunch with us tomorrow? You know, as a thank you for helping me out at the bar?"

"Oh you don't need to thank me or anything, really I'm happy to help," Harry quickly tried to reassure.

Naomi just smiled, "No I insist besides I really enjoyed our conversation earlier, your probably the first friend I've made since coming back to Japan. And I really want to hear more about this adopted sister I so remind you of."

After seeing that Ray also wished for Harry to join them he instantly agreed, beyond happy to have made a new friend. Nodding a final goodbye to the couple, he entered his room much happier than when he had left it.

He'd made a potential friend in Japan.

'Right when I'm feeling lonely I get a new friend, maybe fate doesn't hate me after all,' Harry thought happily as he got comfortable in his bed.

It was odd, Harry couldn't remember making friends so easily in the past. It actually made him a little nervous wondering why it had been so easy to befriend them. But than he supposed his trouble with being sociable when he was younger had been due to Dudley's bullying and later because of the fame; something had just always played against him.

He turned on the television, he'd gotten far too used to the background noise.

"-this is NHN's Kumaizumi Seiji reporting on the latest news-"

Harry didn't pay it much attention, much too distracted with his thoughts.

'Maybe I shouldn't be so surprised' Harry thought as he yawned.

Laying down to drift off to sleep, his last conscious thoughts were, 'After all what could possibly go wrong?'

"-another case of heart attacks in the previously listed criminals have been reported today. Oddly enough, each was exactly one hour apart. Authorities have not yet made a statement, other than their belief that it is the work of Kira-"

Yes what could possibly go wrong?

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**Authors Note:** _There we go another chapter, so tell me what you think! _


	3. Dreams, Apples, and Buses

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. ****No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It would cost more in legal fees than you would actually get, considering I ****own nothing. **

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**_Authors Note: _**_Hmmm... Not much to note on, thanks yet again to everyone who's enjoying my story, the response will never cease to amaze me. Sorry I didn't get this out sooner but hey, I lack creativity, at least I try... I think it's best to give you all fair warning for the future that in this story no one is safe. I could kill any character at any given moment for any given reason or no reason at all! Yup, I'm worse than Kira, people could start dropping like flies in this story, it really just depends on where my imagination takes me. So be forewarned! Oh and I might try to mislead you dear readers, in the story things are not always as they appear and sometimes they are exactly as they appear.  
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_Well, on that ambiguous note I hope you enjoy the chapter. I'm not sure if my focus was good in this one but I'll let you all be the judge of that._**_  
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**"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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_**Chapter Three: _Dreams, Apples, and Buses_  
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Harry was running as fast as he could, panting desperately for breath as he tried to get away. In the distance there was a drowning call of "-ive…! Six…! Seven…! Eight…! Nine…! Ten!" Harry could have sworn his heart stopped than and there.

"Ready or not here we come!" They were gaining on him, he could hear their shouts.

"Get him!"

"Don't let 'em get away this time!"

"You can run but you can't hide forever Harry Potter!"

"Look he's heading for New Zealand!"

Harry looked down at that last call and sure enough beneath his feet the words** 'New Zealand'** were printed across the surface in large bold font. It was than that he took store of his surrounding, there were lines and symbols and names of places all over the ground. Dazed and confused he tried desperately to figure out why it looked so familiar while he looked for a place to hide. It was than that he realized it was a map beneath his feet.

'A map, I'm standing on a map! I need to find the key!' he thought desperately, eyes frantically searching the surface as he continued to run from whomever it was that was chasing him. As he made his way over Australia he looked back at them. It was Hermione! And the Weasleys, his boss Proudfoot and... A bunch of reporters? They were all wielding giant butterfly nets as they tore after him.

Turning away from the sight he saw a giant letter **'K'** written in an Old English type font, thinking it must be the key he ran to it. But when he got there all he saw was the rectangular eye shape of the Deathly Hallows mark with a shiny red apple sitting atop it.

Harry reached for the apple and on instinct took a bite out of it; it was sour, turning green and rotten in his hands. He dropped it watching as it melted into the ground and turned the map crimson. The lines previously forming country boarders shifted to form lines like that in a notebook. Quickly looking back at the people chasing him, he saw them transform into giant pens which then started writing something down.

He watched a nearby pen riveted as it spelled out what Harry instinctively knew was a name; but as soon as he focused on it, the letters blurred out of existence. Than suddenly a net snapped down on him encasing him in darkness.

Harry Potter awoke panicked, kicking and clawing at the blankets that had twisted around him in his sleep, trying desperately to escape the net.  
After a few moments of struggling he finally calmed down enough to properly wake up. Bolting into a sitting position he looked blearily at the alarm clock next to his bed, it was 4:00 AM. He groaned as he fell back tiredly onto his bed running a hand over his face and through his hair.

"Lovely way to wake up," Harry muttered to himself still rather shaken and out of breath from that vivid dream. Why was he always having such weird dreams? He supposed it was better than having some of the more graphic nightmares he'd had in the past. At least this didn't have any green light, dead loved ones, or old Tommy boy haunting him.

'Do I even want to know what it meant?' he asked himself ruefully.

Harry had come into the habit of analyzing his more memorable dreams in the hope of finding clarity. It was Luna's idea, while visiting her one day he mentioned one of his odd dreams and she recommended keeping a dream diary.

Originally Harry had scoffed at the idea, having horrid flash backs to the dream oracles of Trelawny's Divination classes, but then Luna surprised him with her reasoning on the matter. She explained how analyzing his dreams could give him insight into his subconscious. Of course she also said that every magical being had innate divinatory senses. She thought that everyone had an inner eye but most could only use it in their sleep, when their other eyes were closed.

He wasn't completely sure about all that but he thought it was worth a try. In the end he really did find it quite useful or at the very least interesting. He was, apparently, a lot more perceptive in his sleep; it had certainly helped in solving a few mysteries in his life. Beyond that it also helped him with the nightmares that had once regularly plagued him at night after the war. It was comforting somehow, to write it all out on paper, dissect them into different parts and get a better hold on why he was having them.

Harry took a deep breath as he prepared himself to get up.

'I'm going to get up now,' he thought, 'Any minute now... Gunna do it... Seriously...' 'Right…'

"Now," he breathed out as he forced himself up and out of bed. He stumbled over to his trunk, flipping the light switch on as he passed it. He flinched at the bright light that momentarily blinded his sleep weakened eyes.

After mechanically undoing the various security measures on his trunk he opened it and dug around for his journal. He out right refused to call it a diary. It was a journal, which was way less girly sounding and a lot less like Riddle's Horcrux.

Yawning tiredly he settled down on the sofa in the sitting area of his room flipping it to an open page. Realizing he'd forgotten to grab a pen but not his wand he used it to summon one, hardly sparing it a thought. The lights flickered briefly at the slight use of magic as a pen came zooming from the other room heading straight at his head. He quickly grabbed a throw pillow and used it as a shield; the pen impacted with a **thump**, and fell into his lap.

"Oops, overpowered that a bit." he muttered tiredly to himself. 'It's way too early in the morning for this,' he thought shaking his head, not in the least bit disturbed about near impalement with a writing utensil, after all it didn't _stab_ the pillow right?

'Alright... date?'

_December, 20th 2003_, he wrote.

He yawned again rubbing at his eyes. Merlin he was tired, but he knew one had to write what they can remember of their dream before they forgot too many details.

After he recounted it on paper he thought about what it could possibly mean. It felt like there was something important about this one. There was that same nagging feeling he had about the Kira case. Maybe he'd missed something about the case that his brain was trying to share? But than if that was true maybe he should stop trying to figure it out, he was after all trying to ignore the whole thing.

'Hmmmm...,' he considered it, for all of two seconds before going back to his pondering.

'Hide-and-Seek's pretty obvious, Map too, I'm pretty much playing a game of hide and seek with the press, figure the others are the reasons I'd go back.'

He absently started to tap his pen against the paper in an even rhythm as he rested his elbow on his hunched up knees, letting his chin drop onto his free hand.

'What was with the K? Was it really for the Key or...' his thoughts trailed off, he felt stupid for some reason and he couldn't figure out why. Maybe he should wait and think about this when he was more awake? Some coffee sounded really good about now.

'No focus! What starts with K?' he questioned. 'Think fast! Things that could start with K, Kittens, Kippers, Keeper, Oliver'

"ARG!" he shouted aloud in frustration.

'Okay no more word association games,' he assured himself.

And than it hit him and he hit himself in the head for not figuring it out sooner.

"Kira!" he shouted shocked, he'd never realized he was this slow without his morning coffee.

'Okay, so even in my dreams I'm trying to find Kira,' he thought frustrated. Wasn't that just his luck? Even his own mind was conspiring against him.

'Makes sense, but why the Hallows mark?'

Was it just that he associated both Kira and the Hallows with death? The situation itself couldn't possibly have anything to do with the Hallows he was sure.

He tried to think of any sort of way they could be particularly interrelated but came up short. Harry didn't really have all that much information about the Hallows besides what he'd read in _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and his own personal experience with them; none of what he knew seemed relevant to the Kira case. Than again he didn't know much about Kira either.

Harry just shrugged, 'Probably just coincidence,' he concluded.

Now the apple was what really stumped him.

'What do apples have to do with anything? And why'd it turn all nasty like that?' he shivered a bit as he remembered it; there was something... ominous about it. He tried to think of what apples could possibly do with anything. Unless Kira was somehow poising apples to kill his victims, Harry couldn't see the connection. He somehow doubted that was the case or that his subconscious would have formed this theory.

'Be an awfully melodramatic way to do it,' he thought and then snorted, 'Course homicidal maniacs usually are pretty into theatrics.'

He would know after having dealt with one for half his life and putting up with wannabee Riddles for the other half. Idiots who thought the key to becoming a successful dark lord was to 'defeat' him.

It didn't happen as often now as it used to directly after the war, but it was still quite annoying. Some of them were rather pathetic, like the one who thought to turn the famed 'power of love' against him by channeling said power through hugs; thus trying to hug him to death.

Harry shivered at the remembrance of it, that guy was creepy. 'What kind of a dark lord hugs people to death?' he asked himself for the umpteenth time before forcefully pushing these thoughts away.

He stared down at the paper of his journal as he thought, it was a muggle journal and had lines like that of a notebook. He preferred muggle notebooks and pens to quills and parchment, it was just so much more convent. Harry thought he knew what the notebook lines, pens, and names must have meant.

'Must be Kira's victims, how I write the criminals names down to keep track,' he nodded that made sense; he did it nearly every day. When Harry watched the news he would write down the criminals' names as they were reported. Then he watched again later and checked off Kira's victims, they were always the ones whose name and photograph were both shown. It had helped him figure out that Kira needed a name and a face to kill.

Harry also just happened to notice that the ones killed were always reported to have died between the hours of about 4:00 pm - 3:00 am on weekdays. After noticing that he also came to realize that said victims were reported between those same hours. This meant that Kira inflicted heart attacks on people almost instantly after they were reported. Except on weekends when it was scattered through out the day.

Of course that lead him to believe that Kira might be a student or a teacher as it worked around school hours. However he'd had to rethink this idea recently in light of current events. A bunch of criminals were reported to have died of heart attacks exactly one hour apart, disrupting the previous pattern and taking place during school hours.

However this seemed odd to Harry, after all if Kira killed his victims instantly after they were reported it implied that he couldn't control their times of death. Meaning Kira would have had to have spent his time waiting exactly one hour between each kill before doing whatever it was he did to kill them, for a total of 46 victims.

Harry assumed that, whatever the method Kira used to kill, it was not labor intensive and could be instantaneous. But even so it would have been extremely inconvenient maybe even impossible for Kira to do whatever he did for 46 hours straight, meticulously waiting every hour to kill. It made more sense to assume Kira had control over exactly when the victims died and did it all ahead of time.

Harry also thought the sudden variation in Kira's original schedule was suspicious. Why would Kira just suddenly up and change his normal work hours and in such an inconvenient way? Was Kira showing off? Or did he realize how obvious his pattern was, if so that would confirm that he was indeed a student or a teacher and trying to hide it. Either way Harry was leaning towards the control over time theory, which meant that Kira was still most likely a student or a teacher.

Harry wasn't entirely sure why he kept track of all of Kira's victims; it had just become a daily routine for him. Granted it was a rather morbid one; one that was not at all helping with his 'just stay out of it' policy. But really was it doing any harm? No, just because he gained some slight insight into the case didn't mean he had anything to do with it. These were all basic conclusions anyone would have come to, in fact he bet it was common knowledge by now. It did not in anyway mean he was involved at all. Because he wasn't investigating Kira, he wasn't putting any more thought into this than anyone else was, not at all.

'In the dream I couldn't read the names though,' Harry thought. Did that mean he was worried about future victims? Was it his focus for wanting to find out who Kira is? And what was with getting caught in the net? Who caught him, the people chasing him or Kira?

He sat there deeply thinking about his dream before finally shaking his head as if to shake away the thoughts and go about starting his day.

He passed by his rumpled bed on the way to the bathroom giving it a longing look, knowing he wouldn't be getting any more sleep today.

Flipping on the lights of his bathroom, he looked in the mirror as he ran a hand through his hair. It was a tangled mess but what was new? He observed the bags under his un-bespectacled eyes with distinct annoyance as though it were the cause of his lack of sleep rather than the result.

Harry no longer wore glasses, having gotten corrective eye surgery in the muggle world. Apparently eye care just wasn't a large concern to Wizards, no they were too busy inventing spells that make you grow antlers and potions that make you swell up like a balloon. How anyone would ever find those things more useful than good eyesight he'd never know.

Regardless it became apparent that he needed better eyesight after a particularly grueling duel with a rogue Death Eater in which his glasses were summoned off of him. After nearly getting himself killed and adding another scar to his ever growing collection; he was determined to not take any more chances at being blinded during a fight.

Harry continued his self-inspection as he went about his morning routine, being sure to reapply his translating charm. He'd forgotten to the other day and had, had a hell of a time trying to get away from Naomi to apply it without her figuring out that he had no idea what she was saying without it.

Thinking about breakfast and that wonderful substance that is coffee he rushed to get ready. There was a very nice coffee shop he often frequented and he wanted to get there before all the good tables were gone. He did however cringe at the though of what Mrs. Weasley would do if she found out his breakfast usually only consisted of coffee and sugary pastry these days.

On his way out he met Naomi in the lobby, waiting for him to join her. It had become an arrangement that they go to the coffee shop together each morning.

It had been three weeks since they first met at that bar and they had become good friends since. Something just clicked right between them, a similarity perhaps that made it so easy for them to get along. Harry was also fond of her fiancé Ray; after it was established that Harry had no inclination to steal Naomi away, Ray seemed to return the sentiment.

It had been a very long time since he had met someone he could get along with so well. It was after all, very rare for Harry to have friends he hadn't known since he was eleven. He had made many acquaintances over the years, colleagues he'd work with, and even a few failed significant others, but never had he gotten close to actually making a new true friend. It was quite a different and more challenging thing, to make new friends as an adult.

When you're young it's simple, you're oblivious to the natural pull of friendship. You don't think about making friends, you just do. Take his friendship with Ron for example; they had merely sat in the same compartment on the train together. All it took was some shared sweets and stories of family to become best mates. As an adult you think too much and you are too set in your ways to make new life long friendships.

Harry in particular was always rather closed when dealing with people, less exposed. But the night he met Naomi he had been bursting to talk to someone, to have a friend and although he shared much more than he intended to Harry was really glad he did. Harry blushed even now thinking about how he'd spilled out the story of his love life (in embarrassing detail) to a complete stranger.

He thought Naomi must have felt the same way because there had been some awkwardness between them during that first lunch they had afterward. Happily though that awkwardness diminished as they both just readily ignored how much they'd told each other.

There was, however, another kind of awkwardness to this new friendship; one that was entirely his fault and entirely unavoidable. Naomi was the first muggle friend he'd ever made and as such he came to realize how hard it must be for muggleborns to keep the Wizarding world a secret. It was difficult having to edit his everyday conversation; to remember that muggles have no idea why you'd have to Owl someone or why you missed your broom so much. He had to hold back a lot of details of his life and lie or reword things so that he didn't break the statute of secrecy.

Naomi, Merlin help him, was very perceptive and seemed to sense when he did so. Every conversation became a game of intrigue that, while admittedly entertaining, was also dangerous. There were just some things he was not allowed to tell her, luckily she seemed to sense this as well and didn't pry _too_ much.

But as complicated as his life was at the moment, it was also very freeing to be able to just pretend he was someone else. He loved to be able to play the part of Harry Evans, the guy in room 203. She saw him as her new friend who enjoys treacle tart way too much, offers people chocolate at random intervals (his own version of the lemon drop, a tribute to Dumbledore), is technologically challenged and gets a kick out of teasing her fiancé. She only knew him as 'just Harry' and it made their friendship mean so much more to him because of it.

It was due to this reason that he decided that when the time came for them to go their separate ways he would keep a correspondence with her. It was inevitable Harry knew they would eventually have to go back to their respective homes. For Naomi and Ray this meant going back to America, to get married, and have tons of kids and live happily ever after in Suburbia.

Naomi had her future planed out right down to the white picket fence that would adorn her dream home. She knew she wanted to have at least three kids and be a proper stay at home mother and a mystery novelist on the side. Her reasoning being that if she couldn't live an adventurous life while raising a family she could at least live vicariously through her novels. After hearing some of her book pitches Harry was certain she'd do very well with them. He especially liked the one about the super sleuth and his rogue protégé turned serial murderer, though he found some of the names ridiculous, after all what kind of a name was Backyard Bottomslash or Believe Bridesmaid? She was so certain in her choices, so sure of her future; Harry was very envious of that.

They made their way to the cafe with a minimum of conversation. Harry was far too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really contribute more than a brief nod or an off hand comment. Naomi valiantly tried to carry the conversation but she soon seemed to become concerned by his distractedness.

His thoughts were on his future which had become riddled with indecision as of late. Never had he been so uncertain about his path in life. That dream made him feel panicked. It reminded him that he was in fact hiding and dredged up a lot of questions he'd been ignoring. How long would he stay in Japan? Where would he go afterward? New Zealand? Norway? Timbuktu? Brittan? He'd have to go back there eventually... right? He already planned to go back for the holidays under the agreement that his family not badger him about staying afterward.

'A vacation from a vacation, when did my life get so complicated?' he asked himself.

He'd have to go back there eventually... right? He could run but he couldn't hide forever, could he? No, probably not. How long would this Hiatus last? How long did he want it to? How long would he have before the life he so spontaneously left behind came to drag him back permanently? He thought that maybe if he figured out just _what_ he wanted in the grand scheme of things he might be able to figure out where he could go to find it.

Sadly he didn't know what that was either. There seemed to be a lot of things he didn't know these days. At one time he'd thought it was love, a family, and a peaceful life. But after having attempted to obtain those things and having it bite him in the arse he was rethinking that stance.

Well he wasn't being entirely fair, he had family. Really it was just the other two he couldn't seem to get right. Oliver had been a disaster, but well he wasn't the only failed relationship Harry had, had. He'd dated after he and Ginny split up, after the war, but each time it was unsuccessful to down right catastrophic. He knew it was stupid to give up on love and he wasn't, but well, he didn't think he'd be seeking it out anytime soon.

As for the peaceful life, he was Harry Potter; could such a thing really exist for him? Even if it could, would he really want it? It was one of the more confusing things Harry struggled with. It was that ever present contradiction. He wanted a peaceful life but at the same time what was life without a little adventure? He claimed he wanted peaceful but than he complained about the mundane. Peaceful was boring, Adventure was dangerous. What did he want his life to be like? What did he want to do with it? Where did he want to live it...? Who did he want to live it with?

Like Naomi he'd had plans he was sure of, he was going to marry Oliver at the Puddlemere Quidditch Stadium of all places (completely Oliver's idea). They were going to honeymoon in Rome (again Oliver's idea). Harry himself had wanted to come here to Japan, which admittedly had fueled his decision to come here just to spite him. Harry was going to work his way up to Head Auror and work hard to make the Wizarding world a better place. Oliver had been determined to make a name for himself in Quidditch history. And once they'd reached their goals they were going to retire young and live in a house just like the Burrow and maybe even adopt some kids. But his plans had been derailed by Zacharias effing* Smith and Oliver's inability to keep it in his pants.

'Bastards the both of them,' Harry thought spitefully.

"Harry-kun! Hello? Are you even awake? Is this some form of sleep walking? Harry-kun?" she asked waving her hand in front of his face to catch his attention.

Harry blinked not realizing he'd been so spaced out. Feeling guilty for being such bad company, he sighed and offered her a sheepish grin. "Sorry Naomi-san, I'm just really tired I've been up since four and I didn't sleep very well before that."

She eyed him speculatively for a moment before seeming to let it go and give him a bright smile. "Oh, you do look tired, nothing coffee can't cure though," she said energetically as they entered the coffee shop.

Harry gave her a disapproving look. He hated how chipper she was; didn't she know it was illegal to have that much energy in the morning? This sentiment was driven from his mind though as the scent of coffee and pastry hit him full force.

'And now I'm awake,' he thought as he smiled and felt his mouth water at the aroma.

After getting in the queue and getting their orders they sat at their favorite table in the corner next to the windows. This had become a routine of theirs after having run into each other here several times after meeting. Ray had to get to work pretty early in the morning so Naomi was more than happy to join Harry on his daily excursions to the coffee shop.

They hadn't really told him exactly what it was that Ray did for work. They both seemed to avoid mentioning it so Harry didn't ask. Curious as he was, it didn't seem fair that he poke questions at them when they allowed him to be so vague about his own life.

Harry had his suspicions though; there were various details that hinted at Ray being a part of law enforcement. Their sudden need to come to Japan despite the Kira situation was a bit suspicious. Naomi said she had retired from the FBI because she was getting married soon, so why were they staying in Japan for so long? She said she was here visiting her parents but she didn't really spend much time visiting them. She spent more of her time with him actually, not that he was complaining.

Harry just found it rather suspect that they just _happened _to come here a few weeks after that broadcast by that muggle detective. The very one that said Kira was in the Kanto region of Japan, in which Tokyo (their current location) just happens to be. Especially when one considers Naomi's parents, by her own admission, live in Kyoto not Tokyo. And they both seemed inordinately interested in the Kira case and yet they tried very hard to hide it.

There were also several things Harry had noticed about Ray. Even though they lived in America, he went to work nearly everyday for long hours here in Japan. Supposedly he was a businessman but he didn't carry a brief case. He always wore a rather plain suite and a gray trench coat. Harry found trench coats suspicious and Ray's look as a whole just seemed too bland, like he was trying to blend into the crowd. And Ray _noticed_ things, like Naomi, he seemed to notice when Harry was trying to skim over details. The few conversations he'd had with Ray sometimes felt like interrogations.

All and all Harry had him pegged as some sort of law enforcement, most likely FBI like Naomi used to be. It would even explain why they had been arguing before. If Ray was working on the Kira case Naomi would want to help, Ray seemed very protective of her and so wouldn't want her to get involved. It would also explain why they kept it a secret.

Regardless Harry decided it wasn't his business, and tried not to do anymore thinking on it. Really he didn't, just like he didn't think about Kira.

"You seem distracted Harry-kun," Naomi commented as she took a drink of her coffee.

After gulping down half his coffee and practically inhaling his cinnamon roll he responded, "I guess I'm a bit out of it, had a weird dream last night, didn't get much sleep, it's kinda bugging me."

"Oh? Care to share; it might make you feel better."

Harry debated about whether he should or not. It involved Kira and some of his magical life but not overtly so. It was doubtful she'd make the connection or that it would reveal anything about magic. Maybe he could skim over some of the details? It might help to get his mind off it.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to Harry-kun," Naomi reassured him after the silence stretched on for too long, shaking her head for emphasis.

Harry let out a sigh but quickly answered, "No, no, I just..." his voice trailed off as he looked at the fluffy Danish pastry Naomi had just torn in half. He suddenly paled and felt uneasy as he looked at the gooey filling inside the pastry.

"Is- er what flavor is that?" he asked quickly pointing at her pastry, giving it a weary look.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she looked at her Danish and then Harry. Tilted her head sideways, giving him an odd look she answered, "Apple, why... you want some?"

Harry's eyes widened and he dazedly shook his head no.

Naomi gave him another weird look, but didn't question him as she went to take a bite of her breakfast. His eyes widened further and Harry unthinkingly smacked it out of her hand before she could eat it.

She gave a disgruntled noise as it fell to the floor and than sat there staring at Harry speechless and confused. Harry himself was surprised by his actions and quite embarrassed.

"Um... sorry about that...," he apologized his face heating up, quite at a loss for what to say.

"I'm not allergic to apples," Naomi said in a monotone voice.

"I... er, didn't think-" he started confusedly.

"I'm not on any kind of diet," Naomi continued, ignoring him.

"You wouldn't need to be," Harry interjected only to be cut off again.

"Did you suspect it was poisoned?"

"Of course not!"

"Did my Apple Danish somehow insult you Harry-kun?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes at him. There was a distinctly dangerous edge to her voice.

"N-no, I just- er, well you see, the thing is-," Harry tried to explain his irrational behavior but his words were coming up short and Naomi's sudden glare of death was not helping. 'Apparently she really like's her Apple Danish...' he thought nervously.

"You still have the other half," he pointed out desperately, hoping that would lighten the death glare. She looked down at the other half of the pastry on her plate and indeed her glare disappeared and confusion took its' place.

She sighed as shook her head, propping her right elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand.

"So... care to explain that, or are we just writing that off as oddity number twelve?" she questioned tiredly.

It would seem that Harry's irrational behavior had greatly diminished her energy from earlier. A small part of Harry, the part that is not a morning person, felt vindictively happy about this.

Addressing the question at hand Harry considered how he should answer.

They had an ever growing list of oddities between them. Things like when Harry would use the word 'Merlin' as an expletive and her great and unnatural aversion to strawberry jam. Categorized within that list were also those things that they couldn't explain due to their own secrets.  
For Harry it was things he couldn't explain about his life, things connected to the magical world. For Naomi it was things like what Ray does for work, which Harry suspected was due to its' connection to Kira.

They both knew the other had secrets they couldn't share and in deference to their new friendship they respected that and wrote them off as oddities. It was a mark of their new friendship that she would be willing to overlook this whole thing as a strange quirk.

Still Harry felt he should probably explain himself nonetheless, especially considering there was no real reason not to.

"I'm sorry Naomi-san, that was just me being irrational, it's actually got to do with that dream I mentioned earlier, still willing to hear about it?" he questioned with a sheepish smile.

Now looking very curious Naomi lifted her head from her hand and nodded for him to continue.

"Okay," he started, "It started out with me running, playing hide and seek, sort of, only I was on top of a giant map-"

"A map of what?" Naomi questioned, eye brow raised in intrigue.

"A giant world map," Harry continued, "my family and my old boss were all chasing after me with giant butterfly nets-"

"You have very strange dreams Harry-kun," Naomi cut in looking amused at the mention of the nets and indeed his entire story thus far.

"I am aware of that, are you going to keep commenting or let me tell my story?" he asked, part annoyed and part amused.

"Probably, depends on how weird your dream gets. Do you turn into a giant butterfly, because I'll have to comment on that." she responded playfully.

Harry gave a huff of indignation at her playfulness; this dream had really freaked him out. Still he couldn't help but smile as he continued, "No, thankfully that didn't happen in this dream"

"This dream? So you've had other dreams about turning into a giant butterfly?"

"Wha- No! Why would you...," he trailed off. He than shook his head, giving her an exasperated look as he continued, "No I don't even want to know, will you please just let me continue my story?"

She nodded, with an expression of mock seriousness.

Harry rolled his eyes as he continued, "Okay so...yeah, I'm being chased and I realized, that since I'm on a map I need to find the key, so I finally find- er, a giant letter K and ran to it and there was this, er, symbol."

"Symbol? What kind of symbol?"

"It's, well..." he paused as he considered how to explain it, technically speaking this was crossing into magical territory. How much should he tell her? How much could he tell her? He decided it would be easier to just go with a short answer.

"It's a symbol I highly associate with death."

"Oh...," she seemed to sense he didn't want to elaborate and so didn't ask more.

Harry smiled thankfully at that as he went on, "Yeah and right on top of it was a shinny red apple!"

"So, you assaulted my Apple Danish, because you had a dream about an apple, on top of a death symbol?" she asked, taking a bite out of the other half of said Danish.

Harry flinched as she did so, still a bit bothered by it for reasons he couldn't explain. He than continued, "Um, yes... but there was more too it, see I picked up the apple and took a bite-"

"Why'd you do that? I mean, it was on top of the death symbol right?"

"I don't know! It was a dream, It's not like I've got control of these things," Harry snapped before taking a deep breath and continuing, "_anyway_, I took a bite and it tasted really sour and turned all green and rotten-"

"Eww," Naomi interjected, looking disgusted, dropping the other half of the Danish she was eating.

"Yeah, so I dropped it and the ground turned all blood red and the country boarders turned into note book lines, and the people formed into giant pens and started writing stuff, but I couldn't read it and then one of those nets dropped on me and I woke up," Harry rushed to conclude in practically in one breath, hopping to prevent anymore interruptions. When he finished he lifted his hands and put them behind his head as he leaned back in his chair.

"I repeat, you have strange dreams Harry-kun."

"Don't I know it," he muttered back grabbing his cup and sipping the last of his coffee. Somehow he felt even more exhausted than he had before.

Naomi looked forlornly at what was left of her pastry, apparently it had lost its' appeal during the whole retelling. "Well Harry-kun, I guess I can't blame you for acting irrationally, if you're having weird death apple dreams."

Her eyes than lit up in amusement as she brought her right hand to her head and her left to her heart and pretended to swoon, "Oh Harry-kun thank you for saving me from the evil apple of doom!"

Harry huffed in mock indignation, "See if I ever save you from evil fruit again! When the bananas go rogue and you're ganged up in the produce aisle by man eating tomatoes you'll rue this day Naomi-san!"

"Tomatoes aren't fruit," she argued back, as though that was the most bizarre thing he'd said in that sentence.

"Are too."

"They're a vegetable Harry-kun," she said in a voice one uses for very small children and the mentally incompetent.

"No, no Naomi-_chan_, they are a ve-ge-ta-ble," he returned her tone in full and sounded out for her while putting emphasis on the _'chan'_.

Naomi glowered at him; she hated the honorific 'chan' with an unholy passion as Harry well knew. She still hadn't disclosed the whole story behind it, all she ever mentioned were brief mutterings of "Stupid sexist bastard agents" and "Cute, I'll show them cute, shove my cute foot up their a-". Every time he tried to get whatever hilarious back story there surely was for this unnatural loathing, she refused to tell and all Ray could manage between laughs was something to do with Teddy Bears, disguises, dares, and fireworks.

"Just for that I'm going to buy a whole new Apple Danish and make you watch me eat it," she threatened, "in fact you'll eat some too." I'll cram it down your throat, was the unvoiced but clear message.

Harry quickly jumped up from the table and looked at his watch, "Oh would you look at that! I've got to go, Christmas shopping and all that, loads to buy you know, I've got to bribe the family good this year, if I want to come back here alive afterwards!"

She watched him amused as he scrambled to the door, waving good buy, "Don't forget to meet Ray and me for a farewell lunch tomorrow," she shouted after him as he exited.

"Don't worry, I won't forget, see you than Naomi-...CHAN!" he shouted childishly as he escaped out the exit, leaving behind an irritated Naomi, who than spitefully bought yet another Apple Danish.

...

Harry laughed as he made his way to the bus stop. He could have sworn Naomi was a redhead for the temper she had. Even after stifling his laughter, he could feel the huge grin on his face. It was so bizarre; Naomi really seemed to bring out his childish side. They had become friends so fast, over only the course of a few weeks and they were already teasing each other like siblings.

Sometimes it worried Harry, his suspicious, paranoid side that had been tricked, or lost someone one too many times, would question his new fast friendship. The boy who was tricked by false promises of friendship by one of Dudely's gang in childhood, or the man who'd dated one too many attention seekers and gold diggers, or the lonely person who'd lost too many people he was close too were all still a part of Harry and were voicing their worries. But for now the only thing he was thinking was how great Naomi was at cheering him up.

Did it really matter where he was going with his life when at the moment he was having so much fun not getting there? And who cares if he had a bad dream, sometimes dreams were just dreams, there was no such thing as an 'inner eye' and he really wasn't one to look for or heed bad omens anyway.

Just as he arrived at the bus stop bench a bus went speeding by at a speed Harry was rather sure was illegal. 'Was that my bus-" he started to wonder as it zoomed passed him. However his thought was interrupted as he froze in place as an odd feeling overcame him. Time seemed to slow down as the bus passed him for a dizzying second. He suddenly felt heavier, and a strange pulse seemed too emanate in him. A brief piercing pain coursed through his chest, as his heart started racing. He felt nauseous and broke out in a sweat, an instinct struck him and he turned to look at the back of the passing bus as it suddenly turned to the left. When it disappeared around the corner everything returned to normal.

Harry felt shaken; "W-what was that all about" he muttered, bringing his hand up to rub the left side of his chest, feeling his heart still beating rapidly. Confused he just took a few deep breaths as another bus pulled up to the curb, it was his bus.

Shaking his head to clear it, he took one last look in the direction the bus went in before hurrying onto his own and finding a seat. He could have sworn he saw something on that bus, a blur, something black. 'It kind of looked like... wings? But that's ridiculous, it went by really fast' Harry thought to himself, thinking he'd probably just imagined it. He was still concerned about why he felt so oddly before but decided to write it off as a cold and resolved to buy some medicine while he was out Christmas shopping. Still with a feeling that he'd missed something he forcefully pushed the whole incident from his mind and went back to contemplating his breakfast with Naomi instead, it was certainly a more cheerful topic.

He loved being semi-normal, to be able go to a coffee shop with a friend and go on random tangents about killer fruit. If this had been in the Wizarding world, someone would have been spying on him and then spreading gossip about how either, Harry Potter was a lunatic that feared a fruit uprising or there would be an actual report taking it seriously and declaring fruit as lethal. If he told his other friends about his ominous dreams they'd either get all nervous, swear off apples for life, and research all the ways in which pens and butterfly nets could be used as deadly weapons or send him to a psychiatrist (Hermione was always trying to send him to a psychiatrist).

But not Naomi, she just heard him out and made him feel better and not a news reporter was in sight!

'I bet I'm just being stupid right now, being all nervous, it's probably just the flu, it is the flu season,' Harry thought as he contemplated Naomi's reaction if he told her about this incident. He laughed at the thought, "She'd probably accuse me of being afraid of fruit _and_ buses, don't know why I'm being so superstitious lately," Harry muttered to himself.

...

Elsewhere, in Naomi's hotel room she was watching the news as an anchor talked about how a bus to Space Land, an amusement park, had just been reported hijacked. She suddenly sneezed and wondered if she was coming down with something or if someone was talking about her. Shrugging she went to the kitchenette of her hotel room and surveyed the fruit sitting in the now much depleted fruit basket her parents had sent over as a 'welcome home' gift, laying on the counter.

"Huh, I thought Ray took the last apple for breakfast on his way to work," she said looking confused as she saw the fruit sitting in the basket; there was an apple and two oranges.

She instantly reached out to grab the other apple, after all it was her favorite fruit, but her hand paused before grabbing it thinking back to Harry-kun's weird dream and a foreboding feeling coming over her. After a few seconds of indecision she smiled wryly, shaking her head at her own antics.

'This is silly,' she told herself before grabbing the apple and as though to prove her point she took a large bite out of it. As she made her way back to the couch in the sitting area to watch some more TV, she thought to herself, 'See still alive, Harry-kun's going to make me as irrational as he is.'

Naomi didn't know Harry, and by extension his loved ones had such a penchant for bad luck, or that sometimes his dreams in the past had some accuracy or meaning. She didn't know how good Harry's instincts could be or that Ray was on that hijacked bus. Perhaps if she did she'd have advised Harry differently, taken what he'd said more seriously. Maybe she would have taken the same stance as his other friends. Perhaps she would have chosen the orange instead.

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_**Note:** Still no L but he'll have a chapter all his own soon and I should think at about chapter 6 or 7 Harry will in fact talk to L (on the phone) and L may or may not than start his own little creepy stalker like investigation of Harry. Heck they might even get to meet in person depending on how my creativity or lack thereof feels when writing it. I have almost everything all mapped out, but I change my mind at a moments notice and at the moment it's a toss up for when they'll meet in person. I have plans, Oh the mighty plans I have...*imagine diabolical laughter here* But until then you'll just have to be patient.  
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_*I put effing instead of the F word because I wasn't sure if the F word was allowed with a T rating, I used to think you could swear fairly safely with a T rating but lately I've seen fics with M ratings for swearing and it was for less offensive words than F*** so I didn't want to push it. _

_Well there you go, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter somehow, though I think it has more to do with reading other fan fiction that far out shines my own that have now given me an inferiority complex rather than any particular fault in the story. Still I'd love to have your opinion so be sure to review! _


	4. Sugar Cubes, Christmas, and Concerns

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. ****No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I ****own nothing. **

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**_Authors Note: _**_I hate this chapter. Truly despise it. I've had a bit of writers block (the most pressing reason for why I took so long to update sorry about that). Well I'll just tell you right now I'm not at all happy with this chapter, it just doesn't seem up to par with the others but hey at least I've now gotten it out of the way right? I think the thing that bothers me most is it's lack of movement in the plot, it just sort of had to happen no matter how useless it was. I don't know something about this chapter seemed horribly like filler (or the horror, the shame!) Anywho... Well you get a peek at L and where he is at the moment and there's some Christmas Harry-family fluff in there so that's always good I suppose. On a much brighter note now that I've gotten past this all sorts of stuff is going to happen, things will be set in motion and the plot will actually move! Hooray! Oh and I think Harry and L will actually meet sooner than I thought so that's something to look forward to. Sorry that my story is so slowly paced but worry not it will speed up in the chapter after this, things will get interesting. Oh and Happy Holidays!_**_  
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**"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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_**Chapter Four: _Sugar Cubes, Christmas, and Concerns_  
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**A sugar cube, approximately equal to 1 1/2 teaspoons of sugar or 7.39 milliliters. Approximately 25 calories, not including breakage and sugar content of the sugar syrup used for holding its shape.

If he multiplied this by twelve he would have 18 teaspoons or 3/8 of a cup of sugar- 88.72 milliliters, approximately 300 calories inside his 6 fluid oz cup of tea equaling about 170.48 milliliters.

As anyone with half a left hemisphere could see this clearly meant that there was in fact more tea than sugar and Wammy was in fact incorrect in his accusations to the contrary.

L nodded to himself, picking up each of the pre-stacked sugar cubes between the thumb and forefinger of his right had to drop into his cup while simultaneously tapping his teaspoon twelve times against the rim of the cup for each cube. He watched as it dissolved into a gelatinous pile in his cup before stirring it with the spoon in his left hand and taking a drink. Now having gotten a taste of his afternoon dose of glucose he was ready to get back to work.

He moved his attention to the computer screen before him, once again contemplating the notes left by Kira. He narrowed his eyes at the latest missive left by yet another now deceased criminal. The encoded message read "Shinigami." When coupled with the first message he had received, he found it read "L, do you know Shinigami…" The message was as of yet unfinished.

Just what was Kira getting at with these messages?

'Does he mean to imply that Shinigami exist?' L asked himself not entirely sure how he would feel about the matter if that was indeed the case. 'It would clarify the mystery and the improbability of the method of murder Kira utilizes and yet... it is very hard to believe in such a fantastical idea.'

There was certainly no hard evidence that such creatures existed and for that matter it was difficult to imagine such creatures having such limitations as Kira seemed to have. Nor did it seem at all likely that a god of any sort would suddenly become engrossed in vigilante assassinations for the supposed betterment of mankind.

No surely if Kira were an actual god he would not be so childish as to hope to make a better would through mass homicide. L himself would be dead already if this really was divine judgment.

L had, over the years, given much thought to gods and omniscient beings of all kinds in the pursuit of the answers to the universe's questions. But he'd never found enough proof of their reality. Never were his voyages into the more religious or mysterious avenues of the world ever met with any amount of success. It all relied too much on belief, on blind faith that the sources of the information were reliable without anything tangible to actually prove it. He did not believe in Death Gods; after all stories based upon such deities were always unsubstantiated legends.

'There is no physical evidence, in fact there are many scientific facts that would preclude the existence of such things,' L thought to himself as he took another sip of his tea.

But then again there were also no logical answers for how Kira caused these heart attacks. Or why Kira was mentioning Death Gods at all.

'What_ relevance_ do they have?'

If Kira wasn't a God and L suspected as much, did this really dismiss the idea of him or her having the assistance of some sort of ethereal being? Logically speaking L felt this was rather unlikely. There was no reason to believe it; however he would not completely disregard this speculation. It was imperative to narrow down the unlikely scenarios to get to the truth but it would not due to forget the theory in case future evidence was introduced that would somehow justify this ridiculous idea. Yes he would simply file it away in the back of his mind to inspect and perhaps ridicule later. That being done he moved on to more reasonable theories.

"Maybe Kira is speaking metaphorically?" L questioned aloud to himself in a doubtful voice, as he brought his thumb to his mouth to absently bite at the nail. He was positioned in his usual crouched posture and rather frustrated that although his reasoning skills were thus increased by 40% he was still struggling to find reason in these enigmatic notes.

Kira was experimenting with his powers, of this he was certain. Trying to figure out just what he is capable of doing. This would insinuate that Kira was in fact new to his abilities but that was already established by the very open way in which he killed.

L's was rather sure that Kira had not killed before November of this year; he left a rather obvious trail behind him after all. The way Kira seemed to kill was to inflict heart attacks within his victims without noticeable cause.

Nothing turned up on the victim's toxicology screens so that left out poisoning. It didn't appear that Kira needed to be near the victim to induce their deaths. There need not be any history of heart disease or other health issues for them to fall victim to Kira either.

'I do not know what the murder weapon could be,' L admitted grudgingly to himself for the umpteenth time.

It really stung to admit that. How could he figure out and prove who Kira was if he couldn't even figure out _how _he did it in the first place? He reviewed all the things he did know in his mind in a robotic manner that could only be obtained by frequent repetition.

'He is most likely a student due to the time-slot in which he kills and the childishness of his goals. He is in the Kanto region of Japan, he is prideful and cannot stand to lose, and he needs a name and a face to kill- though_ how_ he utilizes these two details has yet to be seen. He is relatively new to his method of murder and sees the world in very defined colors of black and white excepting himself as the only gray allowed. A very dangerous personality trait indeed. He clearly has access to police files. The odd behavior of the imprisoned criminals before their deaths and the hidden missive within their notes insinuates that Kira can control his victim's actions before they die. The message itself leads me to believe he has some belief in the occult or is perhaps of the belief that he himself is a God of Death.'

The corner of L's mouth twitched in amusement, 'that... or he really is a Shinigami, and I really am intervening in divine retribution.'

His amusement died out at his next thought however, 'I would probably feel better about the case if that were true, it would mean my lack of evidence and the slow pace with which the investigation is moving could be excused.'

"It would certainly placate my ego." he muttered begrudgingly.

Kira may not like to lose but he certainly didn't either. L didn't mind playing the game, and truly the more challenging the better, it had been quite some time since he'd found such an interesting case. But people were dying and although they were only criminals now it was only a matter of time until there were innocents caught in the cross fire. It was also rather bruising to his ego, to have to struggle this much to figure out the case.

The NPA was losing faith in him too and gaining fear for Kira with every minute. Several members of the investigation team had already turned in their letters of resignation to Chief Yagami.

'It's only a matter of time before the head of the NPA decides to just sweep it under the rug,' L thought disgruntled.

If that happened he'd be forced to do the case privately and without police support. He frowned deeply at that, letting his head tilt backwards to stare at the ceiling still chewing on his nail.

'That would be very bothersome,' he thought 'And most likely illegal' he added, though that part didn't really disturb him. He was a genus and had a lot of money, the term 'illegal' rarely ever applied to him. Still he'd rather not do anything terribly illegal, that was like cheating.

On the bright side there was also a very good chance that a few key members of the investigation group would stick to the case. Chief Yagami seemed a likely candidate. Hirokazu Ukita seemed emotionally attached enough to continue searching. Kanzo Mogi had been very dedicated to the case thus far. Other than those three the rest's dedication to the case was a tossup. He'd considered the probabilities and the rest fell beneath a 60% likelihood of continuing, not a percentage he was comfortable with. However people were his weak point and he sometimes estimated incorrectly when it came to others actions so there was a 79.9% chance he was incorrect and more than just the three would continue. Perhaps the their continued participation in the investigation could buy him some more time before the case was forcibly closed due to politics. If there was anything that could prematurely end this investigation before Kira was actually caught it was nervous politicians. His eyes narrowed at the thought before blinking several times as he was struck with an idea.

'Perhaps I should commission the building of a permanent headquarters?'

This case was likely to take a lot more time than he had originally hoped and if they were to no longer openly investigate at the police station than it would be necessary to either move from hotel to hotel or build a headquarters.

'I'll have to ask Wammy to hire some contractors soon,' he thought absently. 'Twenty-three stories should suffice, enough to house about...sixty comfortably should due,' he continued thinking, writing down some basic details for the building to pass along to Wammy. He knew there was a possibility that he wouldn't need it, but were that the case it could be innovated to suit some other purpose. It was best to prepare for all eventualities.

Once that was done he got up from his chair and went to crouch on the white cushy couch in front of the TV. He than allowed himself to tilt sideways until he tipped completely over onto his side now laying down but still in his crouched position. He fitfully tossed the fluffy throw pillow his head had landed on off the couch. He hated those pillows they were woolly and reminded him of sheep which reminded him of wool which reminded him of socks. He would than proceed to become angry with himself for thinking of them as woolly and then comparing them to sheep only to remind him of how they were woolly, he hated being redundant. He asked Wammy to remove them but his old friend clearly found the whole thing entertaining.

Now feeling rather annoyed he furiously grabbed the remote off of the arm rest and flipped it to the most reliable news channel for a lack of anything better to do.

"-he met his demise when he fled the bus and was hit head on by an oncoming car. There were no other casualties reported despite the fact that Osoreda had emptied his gun, randomly shooting into the crowd. It is believed that he was under the influence of drugs at the time. Police comment that-"

L lost interest in the report as it went on. Kira killed with heart attacks not cars and at the moment that was all he was concerned with.

He knew Kira was planning something, something big, a major move. All this experimentation with the prisoners proved it but L couldn't figure out what it was. He hoped that the FBI agents he had trailing perspective suspects would pick up suspicious behavior from Kira.

'If he really is planning something surely the agents would notice and report the suspicious behavior,' L thought, 'If that happened', a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, 'I'll finally know who he is, and possibly cut him off before he strikes.'

L felt particularly vindicated at that thought. Oh how he wanted to bring Kira down a peg or two. He wanted to thwart Kira so badly he could taste it and like all things of good taste it tasted sweet. But even more than that he wanted to know just how Kira did it. He knew finding and stopping Kira was of the utmost importance and that it should be his main objective. But he couldn't help but want to find out just _how_ Kira killed these criminals even more than he wanted to stop him.

It was a complete mystery to him and L hated mysteries. One would think being a detective, and an inquisitive mind that he'd love mysteries but truthfully he despised them with a passion. That was the reason he was a detective, to solve the mysteries. Mysteries meant unanswered questions and questions meant a lack of knowledge. Considering L wanted to know everything, mysteries could not exist and thus he had to solve them.

_"You can't know everything L,"_ Wammy constantly reminded him as a child but he had stubbornly tried to anyways. Over time and after years of trying and failing, he had come to accept it. Now he only persisted in knowing everything relating to him and thus the cases he worked on by extension. He enjoyed the process of solving a mystery but at the same time it was nerve wreaking and frustrating trying to figure things out. The vulnerability of the unknown could be a terrible thing.

L was feeling very tired, he felt his eyelids growing heavier as the urge to sleep tugged on his senses. He hastily rolled off the couch, landing, rather painfully onto the floor, luckily or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, his head landed on the 'sheep pillow'. He would _not_ go to sleep even if he had to manfully endure the sheep pillow of redundancy to do it. He detested sleep, and in a way he feared it even, or rather it was waking up that bothered him. Waking up had been L's first memory, waking meant he'd slept, and sleeping had been the last thing he had done before the unknown took hold of his life.

From the day he'd met Wammy at the age of seven to now he could remember in perfect clarity just about all of his life, what he didn't remember was recorded in some way or another and could be recalled as such. Yet for all his supposed intelligence, amazing photographic memory, all his best efforts, he could not remember the first seven years of his life. He could not remember his own parents, or his early childhood, or what had happened to him and no matter how much investigating he did he never could recover what he'd lost. There were no leads, not a scrap of evidence that could possibly tell him anything. All he had was the clothes on his back, an odd trinket that had been in his pocket that he had supposed was a toy of some sort and a name. It was the only thing he could remember about himself; somehow he knew his name was L. Just L, no last name, he supposed it was a great advantage in this case, after all if he couldn't figure out his own name he doubted Kira could. However it was hardly worth that little consolation to have no idea who he was. There were seven years of his life that seemed to be forever lost to him.

He'd seen many specialists on the matter but they had no answers for him. He was an anomaly there was no medical explanation for his amnesia. The doctors claimed it was retrograde amnesia but there was no damage to the temporal lobes, the hippocampus, in fact there was no physical damage to him at all when Wammy found him. They thought it might be psychological yet no amount of therapy seemed to help and quite frankly L was not very inclined to give it another try, he had not enjoyed therapy when he was ten and he doubted he would now. L allowed a smirk to appear on his face as he thought of the last therapist who tried to analyze him, 'That man had more issues than I did, I was happy to have helped him realize it, though I do think he could have thanked me'. L remembered how the man had just rushed out of the office after only an hour of session; L still didn't understand why the doctor had been crying as he fled.

His smirk fell from his face as he felt his eyelids growing heavy again. This was getting ridiculous it had only been five days since he'd last slept he should still have at least three more before needing to nap. Yet here he was on the floor of his hotel room nearly asleep. He would not allow it; he rose to his feet, standing up straight before allowing himself to slump into his usual posture and making his way over to his computer chair again. Opening some case files he was working on under his other alias he got to work determined to not fall asleep until he absolutely had to. He would never_ willing_ go to sleep, would not risk waking up and losing everything all over again.

* * *

Harry was sitting in awkward silence with Ray as they waited for Naomi to come back from the restroom. He had gotten together with the couple as a final send off before Harry went home for the holidays. Ray was able to get away from whatever his mystery job was this weekend and Naomi thought to capitalize on this to get Harry and Ray better acquainted. In all truth Harry was much more Naomi's friend than Ray's and apparently Naomi was not content to leave it that way.

They'd had a fun time of it, Harry loved teasing poor Ray with flirty comments and innuendos and Naomi declared it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. Apparently Ray had always been the more unflappable of the two and Naomi loved seeing Ray finally being all flustered and embarrassed. Naomi, he come to learn, could be a rather spiteful person.

Harry himself was just relived they didn't have a problem with him being attracted to men. In the Wizarding World it was only really frowned upon by old blood purist who believed in 'continuing the family line' which was fine by him as they were not really his demographic to begin with. But in the muggle world he knew it wasn't always accepted. Harry was quite relieved that Ray and Naomi were so open minded. It hadn't really occurred to him to check how open minded they were before telling Naomi that his fiancé had been male or flirting with Ray because, well he was just so used to everyone already knowing.

He was not missing random strangers being privy his personal information but he was rather unused to people not knowing his story and details like these. Not knowing things like his being bisexual (of which he had been forced to be open about in public because Oliver had no tact) or his authoritative political and Auror status. Luckily Naomi had no problem with his preferences and Ray would probably be more bothered if he found out Harry also fancied woman. That would invariably lead to Ray becoming all jealous and questioning Harry's motives for being friends with Naomi.

Harry had found that gender really didn't mean as much to him as he thought it did growing up. Being raised by the Dursley's having an interest in men was not an option so it just never occurred to him that he could like men. He grew up perfectly infatuated with woman and when Oliver opened his eyes to the possibility of being attracted to men he found his interest in woman had not diminished either. It had been rather confusing.

Ginny liked to joke that it was Dumbledore's age old theory about Harry's "power of love", that he was just so full of the "power of love" that he couldn't confine his love to just one gender. Somehow Harry doubted that's what Dumbledore meant.

Even though Naomi was a beautiful woman, and quite within his type, he never thought of her with anything more than friendship in mind, she was engaged after all and Harry certainly wasn't looking for anyone much less someone who was already taken. He was not Zacharias Smith after all. No Harry was perfectly content to pretend to only like men if it made Ray more comfortable with his and Naomi's perfectly platonic friendship.

The time to go their separate ways neared, Ray in particular had to get back to work, when Naomi said she needed to go to the bathroom for the fifth time since they'd started lunch and made herself scarce. Harry suspected it just might have been on purpose. As they had just finished their meal there was no eating to keep them distracted and thus here they were sitting with an awkward silence between he and Ray. Harry did not feel it very polite to flirt with him when his fiancé wasn't there; the oddness of that logic was not lost on him.

Finally after several minutes it became apparent that Naomi planned a rather long bathroom break this time. 'Come on Naomi it didn't work the first four times why'd you think it'd work a fifth,' he thought as he readied to say something. It undoubtedly would have been something stupid and weather related to fill in the empty conversation, but thankfully Ray started first. Letting out a sigh as he turned away from the direction Naomi had exited he smiled at Harry as he began to talk.

"My Naomi sure is subtle huh?" Ray said with a fond smile.

"Oh yes, no way could this be on purpose, I totally believe she had to go to the bathroom for a fifth time today, and that was definitely not the opposite direction of the bathroom either," Harry responded amused and relieved, he nodded his head in mock denial.

"No, no she just had to take the scenic route, there's no way she's been trying to make us talk to each other all day by mysteriously disappearing," Ray said playing along.

They both shared fond smiles as they shook their heads, both knowing that Naomi was being purposely obvious about it. Her way of silently saying 'Make friends already'.

"So... going home for the Holidays, huh?"

Harry nodded as he took a drink of water.

"Do you know when you'll be getting back?"

"Yes I plan to get back on the third, sixth at the latest"

"Naomi told me you don't know how long you plan to stay in Japan afterwards?"

"Yeah, I'm not quite sure, I'm sort of on... Hiatus at the moment," he responded wondering if Ray didn't really hate him and wishing he wouldn't come back, perhaps even counting down the days till Harry left again.

"Huh, you'll have to give us your number so you and Naomi can keep in touch," Ray said, his voice sounded casual but there was a focused look in his eye. It rather confused Harry.

"Oh, um...," he trailed off, how did one explain they didn't have a telephone? "I, er, don't have a phone..."

Ray sent him a disbelieving look, which than turned a bit angry before he concealed it. "You don't have a phone," he stated and Harry could hear the insinuation in it, he thought Harry just didn't want to give Naomi his number.

"Yeah, I don't,' Harry brought his hand up to rub his neck nervously, he than shifted his gaze to the left, a little above Ray's head "I live in a really bad reception area, phone's just don't work right so I don't bother,' Harry than lowered his hand and looked Ray in the eye, "I could give her my address though, I'd already planned to, I really hope to keep in touch whenever it is you guys have to leave," he quickly reassured, kicking himself for not thinking before hand for a better excuse about the no phone thing. It was true though you really couldn't get reception from his flat in Magical Britain, and he really_ did_ have an address to give to Naomi that would lead all muggle mail to the magical post office that would than send it to him.

Ray seemed to except this though as his expression changed from offended to bewildered, apparently he had never met someone who didn't own a telephone before.

"You should, in fact I bet Naomi'll love having a pen pal, she likes to write, I probably should have asked for your email, but Naomi said and I quote "He's technologically impaired," she said something about you causing your laptop to spontaneously combust?" he finished questioningly.

Harry turned bright red at the mention of that, it was not his fault magic and electronics did not mix. Who knew casting a cleaning spell too _near_ one of these newfangled computers would cause such devastation? It was sad really; his shiny new computer he had just bought and had courage enough to try using was broken just hours after he got it. After the whole experience, he had opted to stay away from them in the future. Naomi had helped him pick it out and showed him the basics of having to use it, the next day when she dropped by to see how he was getting along with it all she had seen were the burnt remains before dubbing him a computer idiot.

Harry thought to defend himself, raising a pointed finger and opening his mouth but words failed him, he couldn't exactly say it was magic's fault for running on a contrasting frequency than electricity and so he let his hand fall limply to the table and blushingly took another drink.

Ray chuckled at Harry basically confirming what Naomi had told him with his silence, before saying, "Well it's good that you two can write, she's..., well Naomi can be really serious sometimes, she's really work oriented and hasn't had much time for friends what with her demanding job..." Ray paused there yet again trying to avoid mentioning her job as FBI.

Harry didn't think Naomi meant to tell him she was FBI and ever since she and Ray had been avoiding mentioning it again. He went along with it pretending she never told him. Sometimes Harry wondered just how long this friendship would work with all the secrecy between them but hoped that when they went their separate ways distance might help.

"Well, needless to say she really appreciates having a friend here in Japan. It's been years since she moved to America and she didn't really keep in close contact with her friends when she left. We've both been really stressed out lately, so I'm glad she met you, you seem to bring out the more childish side of her, and what with my being so busy with work lately," Again there was a bit of tenseness at the mention of his work, "It's good to know she has someone to talk to instead of just spending all her time alone," he competed looking at Harry with a serious but thankful kind of look.

Harry smiled glad to know Naomi was as happy about their friendship as he was and relieved that Ray was okay with it. "I'm really happy to have met her too, she's a really great friend, and I'm relieved you think she'd want to keep in contact, I'd really hate to lose such a brilliant new friendship just because of a distance issue."

Ray seemed please and nodded his head, just as Naomi came back to join them.

* * *

Two hours later Harry once again entered Narita airport, this time amongst the hustle and bustle of the Holiday crowd. He was being jostled to and fro by the Holiday induced craziness that made the already arduous ordeal of air travel to become all the more traumatizing. Screaming babies, cantankerous old people, teenage hoodlums, and mother hens alike were all making their way to their designated flights. The Airport was the great equalizer in that it made everyone equally annoying.

As Harry arrived at the very same undetected metal detectors, he had exited earlier this month he steeled himself for the ordeal ahead. He passed through the barrier feeling the tingle of magic more acutely after living with so little of it in the muggle world. It was reassuring in a way, it made him feel at home and brought a smile to his face. It was almost immediately gone though after he took in large crowd of ill-disguised witches and wizards as they made their way to international portkeys or floos. He tugged nervously at his bangs before forcefully stopping himself.

'I'm wearing the makeup they can't see it' he told himself, his hands than going to tug on his shirt instead.

He felt completely on edge, it was ridiculous because he was wearing a rather strong glamour, no one could possibly recognize him and his scar, which refused to be covered by any magical means was concealed by makeup. He reminded himself that there was no reason for anyone to notice him but he was still tense as he made his way to the international floo network area. Harry was cursing his stupidity the whole way; he had not wanted to travel by floo, not at all. It was risky in that he could be recognized but more importantly it was a horrendous experience to travel this sort of distance by most any magical means.

Harry didn't like flooing locally much less internationally. But of course portkeys were out of the question, not only due to his great personal dislike of them but because they were even worse then flooing, what with all the spinning and navel tugging. Why had he not simply booked a plane ticket ahead of time? Better yet why was he going back at all? He was horribly uncomfortable knowing how everyone would act when he got home.

George was going to prank him the second he got through the door, Hermione would make no haste in informing him of all the books she'd read since he'd left, Mrs. Weasley would no doubt stuff him with more food than he could eat in four lifetimes and Ron would doubtlessly review every detail of every Quidditch game he'd missed over the scant month Harry had been away.

Of course this would lead to an awkward silence as everyone made the connection of Quidditch to Oliver. The kid gloves would come on and everyone would treat him like an invalid until Ginny finds some way to break the awkwardness. Than everyone would tread lightly and do everything in their power to make him feel at home so that the second he tries to leave Mrs. Weasley can try to convince him to stay and use his homesickness to her advantage.

Harry loved his family but they just didn't understand. He needed time away to step back and look at his life. They'd promised they wouldn't bring it up, that there would be no harping him on the subject but he doubted he would get away without some kind of guilt trip. Still he couldn't miss Christmas with them, he was being selfish enough running away and Harry had not missed one Christmas with his Godson and this year would not be the exception.

And so it was a very resolved Harry Potter aka Harrison Evans who made his way through the Narita Magical Transportation Station, to the international floo system and straight to the London Heathrow's Magical Station. When he eventually tumbled through, as ungracefully as possible, he dizzily made his way to the apparition booths to disapparate straight to the Burrow where Molly insisted he stay for the Holidays. Teddy and Andromeda would also be staying and thanks to the expansion work done on the Burrow there was plenty of room. After getting promoted to Britain's Muggle Liaison Arthur's pay scale went way up so they could certainly afford it. When he stepped into the booth he took a quick breath to ease his nerves and disappeared with a quiet 'pop'.

* * *

When Harry apparated in front of the Burrow he was immediately tackled. Harry panicked for the briefest of seconds, a stunner on his lips when he noticed the unruly mop of bright turquoise hair. After realizing who it was he vigorously hugged his Godson back. When Teddy finally unlatched himself from Harry and allowed him to get up Harry held him at arm's length to get a good look at him.

Unless he was using his metamorphmagi abilities to make himself taller he had grown since Harry had last seen him. Now that he had calmed down Teddy had assumed Harry's features. From the unruly black mop to the emerald green eyes, excluding the scar he knew Uncle Harry didn't like. Harry had a huge smile on his face as he then grabbed Teddy and hugged him again, 'I didn't realize how much I missed him until I saw him' Harry thought.

"I missed you so much Teddy-Bear," Harry told to his Godson.

"Uncle Harry! I'm _not_ Teddy-Bear, my name's Ted!" shouted Teddy with a pout and an exasperated tone as though this should be obvious.

Harry raised an eyebrow and asked with an amused smile, "And since when was I not allowed to call you Teddy-Bear?"

"Since little Vicky starting calling him Teddy-Bear and George started teasing the poor dear about it," answered an equally amused Molly Weasley from the open front door, "now come in or you'll catch your death of cold out there," she finished beckoning them to come in.

They made their way into the house Harry grinning at Teddy, who was now Weasley red in both hair and face while pouting, insisting that he was a big boy and Ted was a big boy name and Vicky had _nothing_ to do with it.

"-She's a girl and Uncle Ron says they've got cooties, but I don't think Vicky's got cooties though cause otherwise I'd of gotten 'em already, and I know I don't got 'em cause Uncle George said cooties are what makes boys do what girls say and I don't do what any girl says!" he finished as he hung his coat up in the hallway closet.

"Oh you don't do you? What about you Grandma? You'd better do what she says." Harry told him semi-sternly.

"Grandma!" Teddy exclaimed, "Don't be silly Uncle Harry Grandma's not a girl!" he then exploded into laughter clearly finding the idea hilarious.

"That's right, I am not a girl, I am a lady now come give this old lady a hug stranger," called Andromeda smiling at Harry as she came down the stairs to greet him. Harry and Andy had grown rather close through the shared responsibility of Teddy.

Harry went and gave her a hug hello before she led him to the kitchen where Molly than hugged the life out of him while both deemed him too thin.

"Do the two of you both just sit around and conspire to feed me?" he asked laughingly as Andy pushed him into a chair. Arthur who had been at the table playing with what appeared to be the makings of a toaster looked up and beamed at him, reaching a hand across the table give a warm shake.

"Ah Harry, good to see you again! Am I glad you're here; it's been Molly's new hobby to make us all eat the food she wants to feed you. I must have gained 10 pounds since you've left,"

Molly turned around to spare her husband a stern look while she waved a wooden spoon at him, "Oh hush, I didn't hear you complaining while you stuffed yourself."

When she turned around to continue cooking Arthur muttered something suspiciously like "Can't complain with my mouth full" before turning his attention back to Harry. "Ah so Harry my boy, tell me all about the muggle culture in Japan, you wrote that you got one of those Komp-u-tat-ors how'd that go?"

"Er," Harry started before blushing slightly, "They're actually called Computers Arthur, mine was a Laptop and it well, it sort of, exploded," he mumbled.

"What did I tell you about magic and electronics Harry?" Hermione's voice chimed in as she entered the kitchen through the back door.

"Hermione! Well merry Christmas to you too!" he shouted getting up from his chair to give one of his best mates a boisterous hug.

"Omf..., Harry you're going to squeeze the life out of me."

"I don't care I've missed you do you have any idea how hard it is to function without my brain?"

"Oi, who's this stranger hugging my wife, he looks a lot like my mate Harry but since I've not seen him in ages I can't tell."

Harry, catching sight of Ron stopped his assault on Hermione to go exchange a very manly hug with Ron. It consisted of a lot of hard slaps on the back and hair ruffling.

"Merlin I've missed you guys, but really Ron, ages? I've only been gone a month."

Ron, who was being shooed away from the stove by his mother after trying to snag a taste out of one of the many simmering pans just grinned at Harry and waved for him to come with him to the sitting room. Harry and Hermione both followed and made themselves comfortable. Hermione took the comfy seat by the fireplace, while Harry sat down next to Teddy and Ron on the couch. He looked around at some of his closest family and was filled with warmth at the sight of them. The familiar cozy setting of the Burrow, the smell of Turkey and other Christmas dishes wafting through the air and that almost tangible feel of magic that enshrouded a magical household and always seemed to increase tenfold on the holidays were all teasing his senses and made him feel safe and warm.

Harry tossed one arm over Teddy's shoulder as he leaned over to get a look at the book on Teddy's lap. He felt a pang in his heart when he saw a picture of Remus and Tonks, it was a photograph taken just after Teddy was born. Stealing a glance at Teddy he saw a very family look of longing on his face as he looked down at his parents who were waving with radiant happiness up at them. Sometimes Harry thought Wizarding pictures were just cruel, when he saw the long since dead alive and happy in those moving pictures. Sighing he gave Teddy's shoulders a comforting squeeze before drawing his attention away from the photo.

"So Teddy-Bear-" Harry started only to be interrupted.

"I told you its Ted!"

Harry tried to repress his laughter; Teddy was just so cute when he was riled up. "You'll always be Teddy-Bear to me, but I could switch to Cub if you want," he amended.

Teddy took on a thoughtful look for a few seconds before getting a devious look on his face. Harry knew that look, it was the same look Teddy had whenever George gave him WWW joke products.

"Alright Uncle Harry you can call me Cub," he responded looking as innocent as can be, "If I can call you Bambi."

Ron and Hermione both started laughing, as Harry grimaced at the nickname. "Alright who gave him that idea?" he asked looking suspiciously between his too laughing best mates.

"Don't look at me," said Ron between laughs.

"Was it you Hermione, I know you've seen that movie before," he accused pointing at Hermione.

"Nuh uh, Uncle Bambi Uncle George told me you'd like it," responded Teddy.

Harry briefly wondered just when or why George had seen that particular movie but didn't have much time to contemplate it.

"Did I hear my favorite prankster in training breaking rule number two?" a voice asked from the sitting room's entryway.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," muttered Harry turning around to see George, "Good to see you again George, now tell me what did I ever do to you?"

"And just what is rule number two?" questioned Hermione.

Teddy rushed up from his seat on the couch to give his Uncle George and mentor in pranking a hug.

"Rule number two, my dear sister, is part of the prankster's code of conduct, you never blame or tell on your fellow prankster," George explained when Teddy finally stopped trying to squeeze the life out of him.

"Hello Harry come out from hiding have you? Good to see you made it, I was afraid I'd have to go all the way to Japan to drag you here myself, but whatever do you mean by asking that, I haven't even pranked you yet."

"Hello Georgie, happy Christmas! Now what was that about pranking?" asked Molly as she came into the crowded sitting room to give George a hug and asked where Angelina and her grandson were.

"Don't worry mum she'll be here with Freddy in an hour or so, my boy's made me so proud, had a bout of accidental magic turned the kitchen purple. Shouldn't take more than an hour to reverse." his voice was full of fatherly pride as he whipped out a picture of a very angry Angelina, an oddly innocent looking five year old and a very purple kitchen.

"Why didn't you stay behind and help clean up?" questioned Hermione.

"She said I was doing more harm than good, said I was only encouraging him."

"Considering your bragging about it now I don't doubt that," Molly said giving him a disapproving look, "Don't know how Angelina puts up with you sometimes, honestly, you don't encourage a five year old like that, keep this up and he'll be worse then you were"

"Merlin I hope so," said George fervently.

"Where did I go wrong?" Molly asked herself as she shook her head, her amusement belied her disapproving words though as she took the picture from George, waving her wand to make herself a copy.

"So Harry, old man, how's the muggle retreat been going, find anything interesting, manage to get into any more bar fights?"

"Bar fights?" chimed Hermione and Molly in unison.

Harry's eyes widened in alarm as his mind rushed to think of what to say. "It wasn't a bar fight," he quickly reassured shaking his head vigorously, hands raised defensively. "I merely intervened and settled an argument, no fighting of any kind, and how did you hear about that anyways?" Harry questioned turning to George.

"I have my sources."

"More like I told him," voiced Ginny coming into the room, playfully nudging her prankster brother as she made her way over to Harry. He got up and gave Ginny a painfully tight hug, partly because he'd missed her and partly because he'd asked her to keep the whole bar thing quiet.

"Thought I'd asked you not to mention that?" he whispered into Ginny's ear as they hugged.

Ginny just shrugged as she whispered back, "I was drunk, you know I talk a lot when I drink."

"You lush," Harry accused, "that's the last time I tell you anything."

Ginny laughed as they broke apart, "Oh you hypocrite your even more chatty than I am when you drink."

"Hmpf" Harry huffed crossing his arm over his chest, he couldn't deny it which made it all the more annoying. They both shared mock glares but were knocked from their staring contest by a sudden cough making them both jump.

"Um, hello... Earth to Harry and Ginny? You sure you two aren't still dating?" asked Ron waving at them to get their attention.

"Hmmm... Difficult to say they don't fight as much now but at the same time they're both still completely obsessed with each other," answered George.

"Oh shut up!" shouted both Harry and Ginny at the same time blushing bright red.

"Did Auntie Ginny give Uncle Bambi Cooties?" piped in Teddy.

"Not you too!" whined Harry, "They've turned my own godson against me!" he shouted dramatically.

"Uncle Bambi?" questioned Ginny.

"Don't even ask," Harry muttered.

"Enough of this, now tell me Harry dear what did he mean by bar fights, what kind of argument?" asked Molly sternly.

"Well- you see-" he started but Arthur came to his rescue appearing at the now crowded sitting room's entrance. He interrupted Harry with a well timed "Molly dear I think the soup's burning."

Harry sent him a thankful look as Arthur winked conspiratorially at him and followed after her back to the Kitchen.

Harry went back to his seat on the couch. Teddy opted to take a seat on Harry's lap giving George his seat. Ginny took the chair opposite Hermione's by the fire and Harry sat talking to his family and filling them in on his new 'adventure' in muggle Japan as they filled him in on all he'd missed.

All day different members of the family showed up and finally after everyone had arrived they sat down to eat. They all had a good laugh at poor Teddy's embarrassment as little Vicky pushed Freddy out of his chair to sit next to _her_ 'Teddy-Bear'. Fleur and Bill found it especially amusing, and Bill went out of his way to play the protective father figure issuing ridiculous mock threats at Teddy to 'take care of his little girl'. Teddy merely seemed confused and eventually took a look between Victoire and baby Dominique before asking which one he was suppose to take care of.

Audrey and Percy were instantly accosted by George as he tried to get his uptight brother and his equally aloof wife to loosen up. Charlie, Hermione and Andy were all avidly discussing Magical Creature Laws. And Arthur was having a fun time hearing all about the muggle world from Harry. Harry did his best to explain all the things he'd seen and done in Japan (excluding all things Kira, FBI, apple or dream related).

The atmosphere was one of cozy holiday cheer but it was not to last. Harry was just explaining to Arthur all about the cell phone when Ron's angry voice broke though the chatter.

Ron and Ginny had been arguing about Quidditch rather loudly all evening but now it had reached its crescendo and Ron sounded far too angry for something so trivial.

"-and the phone's cordless you see-" Harry stopped mid-sentence as Ron's voice came to his attention.

"I don't care about Puddlemere United Ginny, their chances don't matter, any team with a bastard like Wood can't win!"

He turned to see Ron standing from the table, he was shouting at Ginny and she was looking nervously at Harry while simultaneously trying to shush Ron. It was then that Ron seemed to realize how loud he was being and turned to send an apologetic look toward Harry; everyone seemed to follow his line of sight and suddenly everyone was staring at him like they expected him to explode.

Harry sighed before putting on a bright smile and looking at Ron 'Son of a Bi-' "Actually Ron, I think Puddlemere will do pretty good this year," he felt the urge to twitch but kept going, "I heard Hawksworth came out of retirement and rejoined the team, should give Bulgaria a run for their money." 'Alright everyone, nothing to see here go about your business' he thought as he turned back to Arthur to continue his conversation.

The silence that had descended over the room was than broken as Ginny shouted "See Ron, besides even if Bulgaria does win the Cannons will get their arses handed to them"

"Ginevra Weasley you watch your language!"

"Sorry Mum"

And just like that the pleasant atmosphere was back though there was still tension and awkwardness for Harry; the ring he still had yet to take off seemed glaringly obvious in its existence. He put his hand under the table as he reassured himself, 'Night's almost over, just stick around for dessert and you can fake a stomach ache and escape after.'

As Molly levitated the various desserts and one landed in front of Harry he was seriously regreting staying for dessert. There in front of him was an apple pie. 'You have got to be kidding me.'

* * *

Harry had been at the Burrow for six days and was feeling oddly edgy and had no idea why. Everyone seemed to notice his nervousness and tried to set him at ease but it was to no avail. He was confused and frustrated with himself and couldn't brush away the feeling that he was missing something very important. Like he had made a very bad choice; to top it all off he was getting hardly any sleep.

Each night he'd been home he'd had the same strange dream; he was back on the giant map only this time he was stuck to one spot unable to move as he watched a pen writing a name in the distance too far for him to read.

Harry was currently lounging in the sitting room, it was the middle of the night and everyone was asleep. He sat staring at the fire thinking about his latest dream and this odd fear that was filling him. This feeling as though he were missing something and something awful was coming, he'd felt it enough times to recognize it. And all he could think about was going back, back to Japan.

'But I promised I'd stay till after new years' Harry argued with himself. 'I'm just being irrational, there- there's nothing wrong.' He sighed, that was so unconvincing, he was lying to himself and much like in real life he wasn't really all that good at it.

"Uncle Harry," a small voice interrupted his thinking, he looked up to see Teddy in his teddy bear pajamas rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

Harry smiled softly at him before patting his lap, motioning for Teddy to have a seat. After Teddy made himself comfortable and they'd settled in Harry asked, "Teddy what are you doing up, its way past your bed time."

"I had a bad dream'n couldn't get back to sleep, thought I'd heard someone on the stairs, what are you doing up Uncle Harry?" he asked tilting his head back to look at Harry upside down.

"I had a bad dream too."

"Oh," Teddy said, he than squirmed around so that he was facing Harry and gave him a tight hug.

"Umpf... that's one bear hug you've got there."

Teddy giggled at the well used pun that never seemed to get old to him as he faced forward again. Harry wrapped his arms around him and they both stared at the fire.

"So... What was that for?" he asked resting his chin on Teddy's head.

"Gran says when someone gets a bad dream they need someone to squeeze the bad feelings out of them."

"Ah, smart woman your Gran," Harry responded giving Teddy a hug of his own.

"Course she is," mumbled Teddy tiredly.

Harry glanced down at him seeing Teddy's heavily lidded eyes, his head nodding as he tried to fight off his drowsiness. He was just about to suggest going back to sleep when Teddy started talking.

"Gran says your gunna go back, ta Ja-Japan soon," he yawned.

"She did"

"Umhmmm... said you've been itch'n to go back, thinks you've got b-busi- says you've got stuff to do an that's why you've been jumpy lately."

Harry had forgotten how perceptive Andy could be or how often Teddy eavesdropped on her conversations, birds of a feather they were. "Come on Teddy-Bear let's get you back to bed."

Teddy tried to protest but was easily shot down as his yawns interrupted said protests. As Harry tucked him into bed Teddy suddenly said, "You should finish your stuff Uncle Harry, an then come back happy."

Harry smiled at Teddy "Yeah I think I'll do that Cub, night Teddy, love you."

"Love you too Uncle Harry."

That night Harry resolved to get the next flight back to Japan, something was going on, he'd missed something and he was going to find out what.

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**Author's Note:** Well there we go, again not terribly happy with it but still I'd like your opinions so review and let me know what you think.


	5. Airplanes, Articles, and 'Accidents'

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. ****No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I ****own nothing besides my own plot.  
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**_Authors Note: _**_Yay another chapter and it didn't take me forever to actually write it! It's kind of short compared to the others. I have more written that was going to be a part of this chapter however I think it would be better split into it's own chapter, so I basically have half of the next chapter already written. Thanks again for reading, reviewing, so on and so forth. Oh and I'd like to thank the anonymous reviewers who I'm unable to thank individually, I really appreciate the feedback.__ I suppose in retrospect my last chapter wasn't so terrible but at the time I was rather cranky from trying to work through killer writers block. I'm glad you all seemed to like it__. O__n an ambigious note I will elude to the past warnings I have made and just say for future reference, don't let your guards down and always remember, in my story no one is safe. Well beyond that happy reading!_

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_"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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_**Chapter Five: **_Airplanes, Articles, and 'Accidents'_**  
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"So you really are leaving already?"

Harry turned around to see Ginny leaning against the door-frame of the room that had once been hers; it had since been transformed into a guest room. Arms crossed over her chest, she was sending him a worried look. He sighed as he turned back to the trunk he was packing. He closed it, activating several magical locks, shrinking it down to stick in his pocket before addressing her.

"Yeah Gin I'm heading back sooner than I'd thought, Molly's not too mad is she?"

"Mum? Nah, she's not mad, worried but not mad," she answered pushing off the door-frame to go sit on the bed next to Harry. "Course I think we're all a bit worried Harry, you've been acting really odd lately, well, odder than usual," she amended playfully before pausing to give him a stern look very similar to her mothers. "And if you think that glamour is enough to hide those bags under your eyes you're sadly mistaken." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before continuing, fixing him with a piercing gaze, "You obviously aren't getting any sleeping, you've been all jumpy and I know you're hiding something, when you told us what you've been up to lately I knew you were holding something back." When she finished her sentence, she allowed herself to fall back so that she was leaning against the wall behind the bed. The look on her face clearly defying him to deny what she'd said or explain himself.

Harry was surprised to say the least; he thought he had done a better job of acting normal than that. To think she even noticed the glamour, he just hoped Molly and Hermione hadn't as they were the ones he was most trying to hide it from. He hated it when they coddled him, as though they didn't do it enough already. If they knew that he was missing sleep, there would be no end to the mothering. Keeping track of his eating and sleeping habits seemed to be a mutual interest of theirs.

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything?" he asked attempting to keep his voice casual and failing miserably.

Ginny gave him an exasperated look before rolling her eyes, "You're joking right? How long have we known each other Harry? You know you're terrible at lying to people you're close to, Hermione knew from your _letters_ that something was up, but she hasn't said anything because Ron thinks you'll tell us when you want to."

"And you disagree?"

"Oh I'm sure you'd tell us eventually, probably after whatever it is that's bothering you is over," she said looking out the window at the darkened orchard where they usually played Quidditch, it was rather early in the morning and the sun had yet to properly rise. "Honestly if Hermione had known you were leaving this early she'd probably be here to question you too, they're only waiting because they thought you'd be here longer."

"It's no big deal Gin really I'm just going back a bit early to check on something," he told her following her gaze out the window avoiding eye contact. It really wasn't a big deal, he was just being irrationally nervous, he would go to Japan and find nothing wrong and realize how foolish he was being. Yet for some reason Harry couldn't help but feel like he was lying to Ginny and perhaps to himself.

"If it's no big deal," she turned her head to look him in the eye, "than why are you calling me Gin?" a little bit of anger seeped into her voice as she asked this. "You only call me Gin when you're hiding something."

"That's not true-," he started; he noticed her hands clenched into fists at her side and found himself horribly annoyed at her. What right did she have to demand answers from him or to be angry when he didn't comply?

"Yes it is and you know it! Now tell me what's bothering you, I just want to help-," she demanded loudly, a definite hint of frustration coloring her voice.

Harry cut her off, "Really, help me? You want to help stop what's bothering me? Well go away and you'll have helped a ton," he said waving at the door. He was starting to get very irritated with her prodding, it was not her business, she never knew when to just let things go. One of the reasons they didn't work out as a couple.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him as she rose from the bed, her hands going to her hips. "Fine, I'll leave you alone, but don't say I didn't try to help you when you end up back in Saint Mungos or worse!"

Their tempers had also been a contributing factor in their break up. Harry hadn't meant to snap at her and he certainly didn't want this to be the way he said good-bye. He quickly jumped up from the bed to follow after her, "Damn it Ginny wait, I didn't mean to snap at you," he took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm sorry please don't be mad."

She halted in the doorway before turning around to look at him with a guarded expression, her arms going up to cross over her abdomen. She searched his face for a few seconds, and seemed to find what she was looking for before taking a deep breath and looking at her feet.

"Yeah, it's alright, sorry for being pushy. I-" She looked up at him, her face softening. "Oh bugger, I'm just worried about you, I mean none of us have seen you in a month and the last time I did see you, you were a mess all because of that Bastard and now you're all jumpy and keeping secrets. I just don't want you getting into any kind of trouble when you're so far away from all of us."

Harry smiled as he responded, "You don't have to worry Ginny I can take care of myself and if I get into any real trouble I couldn't handle you know I'd tell you guys."

The corner of Ginny's mouth quirked into a half smile as she nodded her head, "Yeah I guess, won't make me worry any less though,"

"Wouldn't expect you to" he responded.

"Idiot," she muttered childishly.

"Nag," he responded just as childishly as he walked passed her to the doorway bending over to pick up a long, flesh-colored piece of string off the floor. He then said, "You hear that Ron, Hermione you've got nothing to worry about."

Sure enough, a very sheepish looking Ron and Hermione appeared at his doorway. They both looked embarrassed at being caught, though Hermione alternately sent Ron her patented 'I told you so' look. From this Harry guessed using Extendable Ears must have been Ron's idea. Ginny seemed surprised, apparently she had not been in on their spying, she turned to glare at Ron.

"Whatever happened to,_ 'He'll tell us when he's ready'_?" she asked her brother.

Ron just shrugged his shoulders as he responded with, "Er- Constant Vigilance?"

Ginny huffed and Hermione rolled her eyes before saying, "He wanted to know just as bad as you and I did."

"And yet none of you got any answers," said Harry cheerfully, smiling as he pushed his way past them and out the door. As he headed down the stairs he paused to look back at them before saying, "Come on lets go have breakfast, I'm going to need you guys to run interference between me and Molly, I don't think I can take another one of her guilt trips before leaving."

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After a long and dragged out breakfast during which Molly went to great lengths to lecture on the virtues of home and the disadvantages of travel Harry was finally on a flight back to Japan. As anxious as he was to get back in a hurry it could not deter his great dislike of magical travel and thus he had been sitting in an uncomfortable plane seat for hours. He was next to a window currently staring out at the wispy white puffs of cloud that passed by.

On his other side was a toddler who kept staring at him with an unnervingly concentrated gaze, a tiny drool covered hand in mouth and the boy's mother who appeared to be reading a Japanese entertainment magazine, a ditsy blond staring out from the cover. He glanced at the picture and the first word that sprung to mind was _'jail-bait'_, honestly what was it about Japan and Lolita style clothing? He sighed, shaking his head as he turned to look back out the window.

Harry couldn't help another sigh, this one wistful as he looked at the clouds. It had been far too long since he'd flown. Traveling by airplane was a completely different experience when one knew how it felt to really fly, to touch those clouds. Sure brooms couldn't go as high up as an airplane could but flying by broom was so much more exciting. Maybe after he settled in again he could go to a public Quidditch court somewhere in Japan and fly for a bit. He smiled as he thought about it, yes that was something he would definitely have to do.

_'Haven't flown since...'_ he paused, smile dropping off his face as his eyes ran down to his left hand and the ring. It had very much become a handcuff, anchoring him to something he just couldn't seem to let go of. He hadn't flown since the day before the Quidditch World Cup, when he and Oliver had been flying together; it had been one of their favorite pass times.

_'The flying was almost as good as the se-' _Harry suddenly blushed bright red at his sudden line of thought as he become horribly aware of the innocent toddler who was still staring at him. Harry viciously tossed aside the inappropriate thoughts he was having as though afraid the toddler could somehow read his mind. He nervously went to grab the plastic cup of apple juice that the flight attendant had given him (and oh didn't Harry just love getting that particular drink) but his hand bumped clumsily into it and he knocked it over spilling juice all over the tray it was sitting on as well as himself. The toddler laughed and the mother looked up from her magazine, seeing his plight she smiled as she said "Oh here I've got some wet naps you can use," reaching into her bag before handing him a few wet naps to clean himself off with.

Harry felt an unpleasant choking sensation as the Japanese translating charm he'd applied before getting on the plane switched over to English allowing him to understand and speak his own native tongue. It was probably one of the most annoying features of translating charms, each translating charm was unique to the language you tried to speak and unless you could say the individual spell in the language you hoped to translate in you couldn't perform it. Most annoyingly if you knew the spell in a variety of languages all it took was one sentence in said language for the charm to automatically switch over. He had learned the spell in Japanese for the sake of his trip, and of course being a native English speaker he knew it in English. He also knew the charm in French thanks to Fleur, he suspected it was an attempt to bridge the language gap between him and her sister Gabrielle. Fleur's attempt at playing matchmaker after Harry and Ginny's break up.

He tried to ignore it as he answered back, "Thanks," he said gratefully, embarrassed as he wiped himself off.

"No problem, you have kids and wet naps become your best friend," she replied smiling, she than looked at her son who had now stopped laughing and was instead attempting to poke Harry who was just out of his little reach. She grabbed another wet nap and proceeded to clean the drool off her son's face. Reaching in her bag again she grabbed a small box of crayons and a coloring book setting them up on the tray in front of her son's seat to distract him. "I'm sorry, I've been really into this magazine all flight, he hasn't been bothering you has he?"

"Oh no, no he's fine, very good kid you have there, hasn't cried once since we took off, first time I've ever seen a child not cry on a plane," he responded quick to reassure her. He was wondering though how she could read that Japanese Magazine if she spoke English, "So... good read?" he asked gesturing to the magazine.

"Hmmm... Oh yes, well sort of," she blushed a bit. "I can only understand bits and pieces of it, I don't actually speak Japanese fluently I found this sitting here, probably from the last flight, thought it'd be good practice." She held up the magazine before continuing, "From what I can understand it's pretty interesting though, this article I'm reading is all about some guy named Kira, goes around killing bad guys, apparently the model on the covers a big fan of his or something."

"You don't say," he said while mentally sighing, of course more Kira talk.

"Yeah, but I think all this translating is giving me a headache, think I'm going to switch over to my own book," she finished putting it aside to reach into her seemingly endless bag to grab a novel from it.

Harry knew he shouldn't, he was telling himself to just let it go, not to do it but he couldn't help it as he turned to the women and asked, "If you're done with it mind if I borrow?" he asked cursing himself the whole time. She nodded with a simple, "Sure," as she passed it to him before settling into her novel.

Ms. Jail-bait was staring up at him from the cover accusingly before he tore the stupid thing open and read. Again he was seized with the unpleasant sensation of the charm switching languages. This time it was accompanied with blurred vision as his eyes adjusted to the Japanese symbols being transformed into letters of the English alphabet. It did not seem to be a particularly classy magazine, quite a bit of gossip in it; apparently, the Sakura Corporation owned it. Harry rather disapproved of their news show and he doubted his opinion of their magazine would be any different. As Harry flipped through it, he came across a picture with a heavily censored face of what appeared to be a victim of Kira.

_'This is why I hate Sakura corp. they have no shame,'_ Harry thought frowning as he looked at the picture of the man splayed out on the ground dead. His frown deepened further, there was something odd about the picture, but he couldn't figure out what. It looked like it was shot from a cell phone. Something about it bothered him though, besides the fact that he thought it tasteless to put a dead man's picture in their magazine. The title of the article read_ "Mystery Victim of Shinjuku Station"_. Harry's eyebrow rose at that, _'Mystery? What kind of a Mystery?'_ he wondered as his eyes scanned down to the article below the picture. He skimmed the article finding himself revolted with the obvious cult like worship the writer seemed to hold for Kira before the article finally got to the point.

_Our mystery victim was punished in Shinjuku Station after just getting off the train. He collapsed of a heart attack; we believe he is a victim of Kira. Another man, a criminal by the name Yonegoro Nusumi, reported to have raped several women had also been punished at Shinjuku Station just hours before our mystery victim. However unlike Nusumi we were unable to get any information on him and the police have made no comment as of yet._

Harry quit reading there as the article went back to praising Kira, he frowned, _'Just because he had a heart attack doesn't mean it's Kira,'_ he thought, _'but then either way why couldn't they get any information on him and why didn't the police comment?'_ he questioned himself. If it wasn't Kira than they would have at least denied it and if it was, well they had been rather open about all the other deaths.

"Hmmm..." Harry hummed, as he looked at the censored picture once more, eyes narrowed as he examined it closely trying to figure out what it was about it that bothered him so much.

He tilted his head in confusion and then suddenly, his eyes widened in shock and he gasped as an idea struck him. The mother next to him looked up from her novel at the sound. "Hey, is something wrong?"

He looked, his head shaking no, whether at her question or in denial of his own thoughts he wasn't sure. She seemed concerned but merely shrugged her shoulders as she went back to her book.

_'It's not him,'_ Harry told himself firmly still shaking his head looking piercingly at the picture._ 'J-Just his coat, same coat, lots of people wear the same coat,'_ he continued as he looked at a very familiar looking gray trench coat on a man that was of the same proportions as Ray.

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As soon as Harry was off the plane, he rushed through the busy airport. He hurried through the crowds; sparing no thought for the people around him as he pushed his way to the Magical part of the station. A sense of dread and urgency had gripped him as he continued to think of the nervousness he'd been feeling lately and that article he'd read.

He ran past the transportation's regulator with a called, "Apparation, Other Local, in a hurry!" over his shoulder before he quickly entered the apparation booth and disapparated to the booth in the magical post office a block from his hotel. After he quickly made his way there, he ran straight to Naomi and Ray's hotel room, number 113.

As he made his way down the hall he muttered the numbers on the doors hurriedly as he passed, "-110, 111, 112..."

"113!" he shouted before knocking roughly on the door, a sinking feeling overcoming him as nobody answered.

"Naomi! R-Ray!" he shouted loudly, pounding even harder on the door, silently willing someone to answer.

He gave up and turned to leave, when he heard the click of a lock on the door being undone. He turned around hopefully as the door opened and gave a sigh and smiled in relief as he saw Naomi. When she didn't return his smile a feeling of dread returned. He looked at her, she was dressed all in black, her normally poised and confident posture looking slumped in defeat. But it was when he looked in her eyes that he knew. That dead look said it all, before she said one word Harry knew; the mystery victim was no longer a mystery.

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Harry was sitting on the couch in Naomi's hotel room watching her as she impassively poured him and herself some tea in a robotic manner. They sat there for several minutes drinking their tea, Harry quite at a loss for what to say and still rather shocked. How could this have happened? However, if Naomi's state had not been enough confirmation what she said upon his inquiry of Ray's whereabouts was.

_"Ray is gone Harry-kun."_

_"G-Gone?"_

_"There was an accident, he- he passed away."_

After that she hadn't said anything beyond inviting him in for a drink, he had given his condolences and tried to find a tactful way to ask what had happened but he couldn't find the right words. He watched her worried she seemed calm, but he knew that had to be just a cover.

"So Harry-kun-"

"Naomi-san I-," they both started, interrupting one another.

"You can go first, Naomi-san,"

"Well... I- I have to say good bye Harry-kun."

"What?" he asked startled.

"I'm going to be leaving soon," she answered; there was a very determined look in her eye.

"Leaving? Where?" he asked still startled and confused.

"To visit a friend," she answered shortly looking to the side.

"To visit a friend," he repeated, eyes narrowed at the look she had, something seemed off here. "You'll have to give me a number or address I can reach you at," he continued.

"No, I'm afraid I can't do that Harry-kun," The answer was laced with seriousness as she looked at him with an intense stare.

"Why not?" he asked ignoring the look that clearly said 'stay out of it', there was something in her eyes a determination that made Harry very nervous. He had a good idea what she was going to do, what he would do if he was in her place.

"I-" she started then looked at the cup in her hands, "It's complicated Harry-kun."

"So explain I'm good with complicated things and I have all day."

She gave him a piercing look, "Somehow I don't doubt that _Harrison Evans,_ considering your_ background_." Or lack thereof was implied.

Harry winced. So she had investigated him and came up empty-handed, he suspected she would.

"But even so I can't get you involved Harry-kun" she continued softly, "It- well, you don't have the right insurance."

"Insurance?" he parroted confused.

"Yes I wouldn't want you to get into an accident like Ray." she answered, "The friend I'm visiting, he's an old co worker, and he wouldn't be happy if I involved someone without the right paperwork."

_'Oh,' _Harry thought,_ 'she doesn't want me to die, co worker, does she mean FBI?'_. Of course, it made sense that she would want to catch Kira, but he wouldn't let her do it without him.

"What if I said I've almost been in accidents like Ray-san before, as an- occupational hazard, working for a lesser known insurance agency for years and although I don't have the official paperwork I could be extremely helpful in... lowering the costs?" Harry asked playing along. If it wasn't such a serious situation he might have found what he'd said amusing as he actually did part own a muggle insurance agency though investments the goblins at Gringotts ran.

Naomi seemed to struggle with her thoughts, indecision seeming to make her unable to answer immediately. "I- I really don't think-" she started before Harry interrupted.

"Please, Please Naomi-san let me help you. I can't let you do this alone."

"I won't be alone-"

"You're my friend Naomi-san and I- I know things, about all these accidents, I have... friends too that may know more, I might be able to help you, give you information your friend won't have, I can't tell you everything, but maybe, if the cause of all these accidents is what I think it is and I can get permission, I can tell you then. Please Naomi I don't want you to have an accident too."

Naomi stared at him for a moment and she really did seem to want to take up his offer, but at the same time, she seemed unsure. Then Harry thought of something to try to convince her further.

Dropping the facade he stared her straight in the eye holding her gaze, "Just give me a day, just_ one day_ to prove I can be useful, I just need you to hold off investigating for _one day_. Please just promise me you'll wait and if I can't give you new information on Kira I promise I'll..." he swallowed thickly, "I promise to not to bother you again."

After what felt like hours of staring intensely at each other she finally answered, "Alright Harry-kun, I'll wait. I've thought there was something you've been hiding, every time Kira came up you acted as though you knew something, I-" she looked to the side before looking back at him, "I promise not to do anything reckless either way."

He examined her for a second before taking what she said as truth. They finished their tea, and as Harry walked out the door she said, "You're a very good friend Harry-kun, I- goodbye Harry-kun." Something about the way she said that sounded horribly final and Harry had the feeling she didn't believe he would be able to help, or that she just might not honor her promise.

"Goodbye Naomi, _I'll see you tomorrow_," he said emphasizing the last as she shut the door. Before leaving Harry looked around, seeing that the hallway was empty he turned back to Naomi's closed door. Whipping out his phoenix feather wand, he waved it in a complicated set of motions muttering under his breath. He put a monitoring and a tracking spell on the door, both action released spells that would transfer to her, should she leave her room and keep him privy to her health as well as her whereabouts.

He spared only a second to feel guilty for not trusting her and invading her privacy before pushing the sentiment roughly had been far too complacent, too content with just minding his own business, he might not have been able to save Ray but he was not going to make the same mistake with Naomi. He could not just ignore this any longer; things with Kira had now become personal.

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Meanwhile the world's greatest detective was staring absently at his computer screen, a small blue lollipop in his mouth. He was going to be meeting with whatever was left of the investigation team tomorrow, the FBI had pulled out from the case, his resources were becoming uncomfortably limited. He would have to show his face a sure sign that he was losing. But for now all he could do was stare at the message Kira had sent him.

_"L, did you know shinigami only eat apples?"_

He bit down harshly on the lollipop cracking it into pieces in his mouth, eyes narrowed angrily at the screen."I will be sure to remember that Kira, when they give you your last meal."

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**Authors Note: **_Well there we go another chapter, it's rather shorter then the others or indeed than I had originally intended but I'm happy with it. I had more planned to happen during this chapter however I thought the events to come should be a chapter of there own, on the brighter side I'm sure to get the next one out soon. Well tell me what you think! _


	6. Unspeakable, Undone, and Unknown

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. ****No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I ****own nothing besides my own plot.**

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_Authors Note: _**_Hello readers look I've updated! This took longer than I'd thought it would. I started half the chapter and was doing great but then I was attacked by writers block (and a vicious cold) so I ended up taking longer. But here it is and it's my longest chapter ever. I'm so exhausted, writing really stresses me out! Still I love the rewarding feeling one gets when they finish a chapter. Well anyways enough of my pointless babble and on with the story!_**_  
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**"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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_**Chapter Six: **Unspeakable, Undone, Unknown

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The next day found Harry in front of the muggle entrance to the Japanese Ministry of Magic. He was quite nervous, as he was unable to wear a glamour while inside the building. This was due to the ministry wards, which would have disabled any such methods of concealment.

He tugged on his bangs some more even though he knew his scar was covered before determinedly stopping himself. After taking a deep breath to calm himself as he entered the seemingly broken down phone booth. Rolling his eyes, he dialed 6-2-4-6-8, which thanks to the translation charm Harry knew spelled out Mahou, which was 'Magic' in Japanese.

_'Wizards think they're so clever,'_ he thought as cool female voice asked for identification.

Owing to the fact that they really didn't pay attention to what you told them he gave his alias and said he was visiting a friend. He collected the badge provided as darkness filled the booth while it made its grinding descent into the ground. Left with nothing to distract him, Harry could do nothing but let the feelings he had been attempting to avoid take hold of him as he stood in the cramped enclosure.

Guilt coiled like a snake in his intestines, wriggling around until it reached his chest wrapping around his heart as it constricted with sorrow. If only he had stayed here in Japan, if only he had taken a more active approach to the Kira case. If only he had been less concerned with his own, problems and more concerned with the safety of others. Perhaps Ray would still be alive now. As an Auror he should have done something about this case a long time ago. He suspected magic was involved. Why had he not interfered before now?

He was furious, filled with rage at the unknown vigilante and at the unfairness of it all. Ray had been a good man, and he and Naomi had been so happy with a bright future ahead of them. He hadn't done anything wrong, he had not deserved to die, and Naomi certainly hadn't done anything to deserve having her fiancé ripped away from her so abruptly. It was one of those instances in life, an unfair moment that was so very unfair that it shouldn't have been allowed to happen. Harry was filled with fury at Kira and his so-called justice.

At the moment though a majority of his fury was also aimed solely at himself. Why hadn't he done anything before it was too late? He knew Ray was involved with the Kira case, he had felt like something bad was going to happen, why had he just kept brushing it off? He banged his arm on the side of the dark booth in frustration; the echoing noise rang out eerily through the small space.

_'Why didn't I do anything?'_ he questioned himself as the booth started to light up. He sighed heavily before straightened himself out and pushing his regrets to the back of his mind, determination taking its place. When the door opened, he briskly exited into the bustling ministry lobby and made his way over to the security desk. A board looking wizard in peacock blue robes then ushered him over to the left of his desk. He checked Harry with a probity probe (Harry still scoffed at the name) before asking for his wand.

Harry handed his phoenix feather wand to him, well aware that it was in fact a minor felony to withhold his second one. The elder wand would have just broken the machinery anyways; he'd secretly tested it on the one back home. It had taken the maintenance crew four days to fix it. Cattermole, the wizard Ron had once impersonated during their ministry break in, had sent he and Ron suspicious looks the whole time they were trying to fix it.

The wizard dropped it into the brass scale of the wand-checking machine the name of which eluded Harry, watching it operate as a strip of parchment came speeding out. Tearing it off, the security wizard monotonously said, "Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, in use 12 years?"

Harry nodded as the wizard then slipped the parchment on the small brass spike on his desk before handing Harry back his wand. Harry nodded to the man once more before going further into the ministry entering the lift, which was happily empty. Looking at the various labels beneath the buttons, he pressed the ninth floor button. A cool female voice called "Floor Nine: Department of Mysteries".

Harry involuntarily shivered; he did not want to be here. In fact, Harry had never wanted to go anywhere near any Department of Mysteries even if it wasn't the same one.

As he exited the lift and made his way through a plain looking corridor, its uncanny likeness to the one in England set Harry on edge. He walked toward a wizard he recognized from description as the Unspeakable he was supposed to meet.

He was 5' 9", dressed casually as were all Unspeakables, probably within his 50s with dark brown hair, brown eyes and plain features. Nothing that would register in others minds as particularly special. The only thing different about him was his Caucasian features which illustrated his status as a foreigner here in Japan. He was leaning against a black door that lead to the Entrance Chamber assuming that Japan's DOM conformed to the same layout as the British one. The man straightened himself from his leaning position as Harry drew near sending him a congenial smile.

"Mr. Evans I assume?" he asked in British accented English.

Harry again felt the unpleasant choking feeling of his translating charm switching languages. The man seemed to realize he wasn't doing Harry any favors by switching languages and sent him an apologetic look.

"Sorry, it's been months since I've transferred here from England, I miss speaking English."

"Ah no worries," answered Harry, "considering this could risk your job I rather think it's a small price to pay."

The man just smiled and waved off Harry's concerns, "They wouldn't fire me just for this, shelved cases are hardly Unspeakable matters, they just needed the office space upstairs and shoved the work on us." He sounded part amused and part annoyed by this as he turned around and opened the black door, ushering Harry through. "Honestly, you'd think I was secretary for all the clerical work I seem to do," he muttered sounding slightly disgruntled.

Harry couldn't help but quirk a small smile at that. How many times had he thought the same thing about his old job?

They both stood waiting as the doors spun around the circular entrance room before the man led him through a door on the left. As they made their way through another corridor, the Unspeakable turned to Harry and asked, "So how is our mutual friend in England doing?" Harry looked away from the door at the end of the corridor they were heading toward to respond.

"Ah he's... doing well. Got a new promotion but being an Unspeakable he couldn't actually tell me what it was."

"That's good, always thought he'd go places, course being a friend of _yours_ couldn't have hurt," he finished sending Harry a coy look.

Harry did his best to ignore the look, he almost responded with a curt _"It certainly didn't help either,"_ but he thought better of it said, "He's a good friend, I take care of my friends".

Denis Creevy had gotten that promotion on his own, but if playing along would make getting the information he needed easier he would be willing to make a few calls. Harry had never liked using his position and fame to get favors but in this instance, he was willing to push his dislike aside.

"Good to know," said the man as they stopped in front of a door that he then unlocked and lead Harry through.

The room was huge; the walls were lined with shelves housing shimmering glass orbs that reflected silvery blue lights on the dark walls. Harry couldn't stop the tremor that tore through him at the site of them. The glimmering orbs were filled with silvery-white wisps of smokey yet liquid substance that Harry suspected were memories, all he could do was stare at them with wide, panicked eyes.

The Unspeakable cleared his throat and Harry was able to tear his eyes away from the horrible glass works. The man was looking at him understandingly; apparently, he was one of many that had read about Harry's old prophecy. Unlike most, being an Unspeakable he would actually know something about what a curse prophecies could be. Harry averted his eyes from the man's sympathetic stare but returned his gaze as the man started speaking.

"And here is the Chamber of Cases, each glass orb contains a myriad of case files," he said gesturing to the shelves with a flourish as though he were a tour guide.

"Manila file folders would've been easier," muttered Harry shakily.

His companion smiled, "But then we wouldn't be Wizards, besides this is much more impressive."

"Who's it meant to impress, the cleaning staff?" Harry asked still rather disgruntled.

The man just smirked as he continued explaining, "We'll pick up the one containing discontinued cases that start with K."

He paused there as he reached for a glass orb with the letter K written on the label. He then moved over to a podium type stand in the middle of the room.

"This here is where we retrieve the information, we put the orb in here," he said putting the glass ball into a shallow stone basin. It had carved runes and strange symbols, and looked to Harry like a Pensieve. The orb then seemed to melt into the same silvery substance memories were made of. The Unspeakable pointed to a flat surface on the podium stand that held a piece of parchment and a quill.

"It's a self-inking quill, all we need to do is write the key words involved in the case or the case file's ID, since I have the ID I'll just write that." He then scribbled a combination of letters and numbers onto the parchment, which then sunk into the paper.

The basin's liquid flashed red before turning sliver again, some of the liquid seemed to leak out of the bottom of the bowl into the podium leaving only a cupful of liquid in the bottom. The basin then somehow refilled with a light blue fluid, the cupful of left over silver liquid forming swirling strands that floating about the blue depths.

The Unspeakable than bent over and opened a compartment on the side of the podium. It revealed a tube that connected to the bottom of the basin and a new glass orb, which looked mostly full. He pointed to it, "This is all the other case files starting with K. Inside the basin now is the information on the Kira case, to access it you need only enter the pensieve. In it will be a memory made by the Auror who was on the case recording his or her findings."

Harry looked at the whole thing partly incredulous and partly impressed they didn't have anything like this at the British Ministry. "I still say file folders would be easier."

"Yes well, that would require common sense," the man responded still smiling.

Harry sighed as he bent over the podium, he paused however to look at the Unspeakable.

"You coming in with me?" he questioned knowing he'd feel more comfortable if the man joined him. It wasn't that he didn't trust him but he didn't like the idea of anyone being around him when his mind wasn't firmly in his body.

"Hmmm... Oh sure, why not." he said and with that they both entered the pensieve.

Harry fell into the memory and then fell onto his backside. "Argh, I'll never get used to that," he muttered annoyed.

The Unspeakable tried to repress his laughter as he helped Harry up. The memory was inside what Harry recognized as a Ministry office, an Asian woman in Scarlet Auror attire was standing alone in the office staring at a file folder in her hands. She stood there for several seconds before starting to read from the file in a crisp business like voice.

"Case File K1128M, code named Kira Case, Auror Yumi Fujimoto reporting as the only Auror on the case. After an investigation that ran for several weeks I am labeling this case as MM and having it shelved until further notice."

Harry couldn't help but send her a disbelieving look for considering the Kira case to be Mostly Muggle but of course this look was wasted as she couldn't' see it.

"My reasons for this ruling are thus: There is no magical residue on the bodies of the victims. There have been no suspicious magical signals on any of the ministry's radars. The victims in question have no apparent links to the magical community. And the Unspeakables have found themselves unable to replicate the method of murder or even theorize on what it could be."

At the last one Harry spared a glance at the Unspeakable to his right, he only shrugged, "I wasn't on the case."

Harry nodded looking back at the memory Auror as she started to speak again.

"There is a muggle investigation being run by a muggle organization named the ICPO or International Criminal Police Organization most specifically the NPA or The National Police Agency as well as a private muggle detective by the name of L. For now I've deemed it MM with plans to briefly review the case in the future should any new evidence be found by the muggles in question until such time the case will be shelved."

With that, the memory went blank as Harry and the Unspeakable were expelled from the pensieve. Harry stood there still rather disoriented staring at the pensieve in disbelief.

"_That's_ all? Really_ that's_ all they found out before_ shelving it_!" he shouted irritated. Were all ministries this incompetent?

"Er- well there wasn't anything saying it _was_ magic, I, um couldn't see a connection," defended the Unspeakable weakly, he too seemed surprised by the lack of information in the file.

"Oh so because we don't see something it must not exist! I suppose air doesn't exist either, you know since we can't see it and all," Harry continued feeling irate. "I didn't see anything that said it _wasn't_ magic either!"

"Well now that's just Quibbler talk," said the man sounding slightly offended but mostly amused.

Harry turned to glare at him, the man just smiled at him and eventually Harry sighed and dropped his glare. "Sorry, it's not your fault that there isn't more to the file. I suppose I'll just be going now," he said turning to exit the room.

"Ah wait, Mr. P- Er Evens let me put this away and I'll walk you out, might get lost in the Entrance Chamber otherwise."

Harry silently nodded, watching as the man pushed a button causing the blue liquid to evaporate into a blue gas, which quickly dispelled. He then pushed another button and the remaining silver liquid drained into the glass orb, which he then placed onto the shelf.

As they walked back down the corridor Harry attempted to rein in his temper and disappointment, he had been really hoping to find more than that. His mind raced as he tried to find other ways to obtain information he could give Naomi but he was drawing a blank. When they finally reached the exit, walking through the black door Harry turned to the Unspeakable that had helped him.

"Er, Thanks, Mr...?" it was then that Harry realized he'd never caught the man's name.

"Thompson, Philip Thompson, and it's alright Mr. Evans considering what you did for Britain I'm happy to help, not that it was much help, sorry for that."

"Oh, no don't worry about that, I'm sure I'll find what I'm looking for. This has been helpful, narrows things down," reassured Harry, it actually wasn't much help at all but he didn't want to be rude.

"Nice of you to lie, but I've been an Unspeakable for 17 years now and an Obliviator for 9 years before that. I can admit that of the two Ministries I've worked for neither has been very competent," he responded jovially.

"You used to be an Obliviator?" Harry asked surprised, he'd never heard of an Obliviator switching jobs like that. Most considered Obliviators lower ranking ministry officials due to all the fieldwork they did involving muggles and such. It was not a very glamorous job overall and often considered only a notch above magical maintenance. Harry didn't even know you could transfer into the Unspeakables from another Department.

"Yep, I was an Obliviator for the English Ministry, during the war no less! Can't tell you how many muggles I had to Obliviate. I remember nearly losing my job because I forgot where I put my rememberall! Useless little trinkets they are. My Department Head nearly bit my head off for losing it. Each Obliviator gets a custom made one you know. They're like an ID so people know you're actually a licensed Obliviator and not some loon out messing about with people's minds..." Mr. Thompson seemed to get lost in a wave of nostalgia as he recounted this to Harry.

Although Harry was still annoyed at his lack of progress, he couldn't repress his amusement at the man. Harry rather liked him; he could understand why Denis was friends with him despite the fact that he was much older than Denis and Harry himself. He seemed like a fatherly sort of person, he strongly reminded Harry of Arthur Weasley. Harry said good-bye, thanking the man once more before he left.

As he entered the booth of the muggle entrance Harry tried to think of what to do next. He was greatly troubled with what little he had gained from this and didn't know what his next move should be.

_'I could always tell Naomi a bit about magic,' _he thought before rolling his eyes. _'Yeah that'll work, I'm sure she would believe me,'_ he thought sarcastically.

He wouldn't be able to prove it without doing magic and doing magic in front of a muggle could bring him a lot of unwanted attention, not to mention it was illegal. _'Could do something low powered, something too weak to show up on their radars,'_ he argued with himself.

The ministry only knew you did magic around a muggle if the magical frequency was strong enough to show up on their radars. It was a common misconception that muggles had no magic whatsoever. In fact, they had very small amounts of magic that ran on a different frequency than a witch or wizard's magic. Due to its odd frequency, it wasn't easily used and as such, muggles could only tap into their magic during moments of high stress, when their adrenaline was high.

You hear cases of it all the time, one where in an emergency a person taps into some unknown strength, a mother lifting a car off her child. It was this latent magic that tipped off the ministry if a witch or wizard used magic too close to a muggle. A muggle's latent magic reacts to the use of a wizard's magic causing it to flair and show up on one of the ministry's radars.

The Ministry can't tell who did the magic only that it was done in front of a muggle. They send in Obliviators and if they find out who did it they charge them. However if one used a weak enough spell they could avoid the flair up and the ministry would be none the wiser.

There was a chance he could do something really low powered, that would be insignificant enough to be beneath the ministry radar, but showy enough to convince her he was telling the truth. However if anyone found out, he'd be in big trouble. That was unless the Obliviators here in Japan were as easily bribed as the one's back home. Being low-leveled officials, Obliviators weren't paid very well nor treated with much respect. As such, they were usually the easiest ministry officials to bribe.

Harry didn't necessarily approve of bribing people to get what you want but sometimes it had it's merits. More often than not, the ministry sent an Obliviator to the source of the muggle magic flair and they would decide if it was worth bringing in the Aurors or simply obliviating the muggle and reporting back to the Law Department. Quite often instances of breaking the statute of secrecy turned out to be accidental. Therefore, unless it was something like serial muggle baiting they usually just left it to the Obliviators desecration on whether to charge the wizard or witch. That is if they can even find them.

So if he were to be caught he might be able to just pay off the Obliviator to not mind wipe Naomi and let him off with a warning. He considered the possible ramifications of doing this.

Even if he did get caught it would be his first official offense since becoming an adult, his juvenile record had already been expunged so the most he would get is a slap on the wrist, large fine no big deal. However, if he did this he'd either have to legally register as a magical visitor to Japan under his actual name or take Naomi to England to tell her. Otherwise he'd risk getting charged for being falsely registered under an alias in a foreign country.

Of course, if there were any chance he could get Naomi to go to England he could probably get permission from Minister Kingsley to tell her what he needed, thus he wouldn't be breaking any laws. But then how to get Naomi to go to England with him? Harry was stuck, he briefly considered getting permission from Kingsley and then setting off a portkey to England on Naomi; that would get her to England and show her magic.

_ 'Two birds with one stone,'_ he thought before pushing this idea away. Kidnapping by a nauseating form of magical transportation didn't seem like the best way to introduce her to magic. Really Harry didn't want to explain everything just enough to cover the Kira case. Something that would convince her to trust him when he said he'd dealt with things like this before. He wanted her to know he was not just some random civilian but someone who could actually help her catch Kira.

He was jolted from his thoughts as the booth made its grinding halt back on ground level. When he finally exited the booth, he violently flinched as a piecing whistle filled his ears. He froze in shock, eyes widening as panic clenched at his stomach.

That was the sound of a monitoring charm after it had been disabled; something had happened to Naomi. It was then that a horrible idea struck Harry; the Ministry Wards would have blocked his access to the charms he'd placed. Meaning there was no way to know just how long his charms had been going haywire. Thinking quickly Harry looked around himself to make sure no one was around before disabling the malfunctioning monitoring charm. He than disapparated straight into the sitting room of Naomi's hotel room not much caring that he was apparating within muggle-populated areas.

Appearing in Naomi's hotel room he quickly looked around him, not seeing her immediately he tested his tracking charm but just like his monitoring charm, it was going haywire so he disabled that as well.

Harry was panicking, what would disable his charms like that? What should he do now? He didn't know where Naomi was or what had happened.

_'She could be dead already,'_ he roughly pushed that traitorous thought away, there was no use thinking it was already too late; he needed to find her.

"Okay best way to find her," he muttered, racking his brain for the best method of search. He employed the first one that came to mind, bringing his wand to point at his eyes he muttered, "Lumos Vestigium Naomi." His vision went blurry for a second as a bright flash filled his eyes.

He blinked a few times while they adjusted before shifting his gaze to the floor. It was covered with spots that were illuminated with a soft blue light in the shape of mostly broken footprints in varying degrees of brightness. It was a basic Auror spell that was cast on the eyes, it allowed the caster to see a lit up version of footprints left by the person you were searching for.

He allowed himself a moment of relief at the success of the spell; it would not have worked if she were already dead. Harry didn't take time to revel in his relief however; he really didn't want to see those lights go out if he didn't get to her on time. He knew something had to be going on or his charms wouldn't have turned faulty.

There were barely noticeable prints probably days old; he disregarded those as he found the trail of brightly shining prints leading out the front door. He followed the freshest looking trail into the elevator, for a moment he was unsure of which floor to go to but decided the best place to check was the lobby as it was more likely she'd left the building.

He found he was right as he followed the trail into the lobby and out the front door. He tried to hurry, running along, scanning the sidewalk as he followed the glowing footprints. People were staring at him as he raced by, pushing people out of the way as necessary. He didn't give them or their offended shouts any mind as he continued following the footprints.

Eventually he stopped as he came across a spot where the trail seemed to cross, apparently she'd come back this way from where ever she had gone. The brightest trail led down the street and around a corner.

Harry let out a sigh of relief when he saw Naomi ahead of him, walking along, very much alive.

"Naomi-san!" he called, trying to get her attention. She didn't respond, not so much as a twitch in his direction._ 'She must not have heard me,'_ he thought with a frown as he moved forward making his way to catch pace with her.

When he finally caught up to her he put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Naomi-san?"

He gasped, hand immediately dropping from her shoulder to grasp at his chest as he felt an odd pulse go through him, stumbling a bit as vertigo hit him. It vanished just as fast as it appeared and he forcefully shook it off focusing once more on Naomi.

She turned toward him and her face was passively blank. She didn't smile as she usually did or really give much sign of recognition at all.

There was something seriously off about her, Harry didn't know what it was, but something was very wrong. His instincts screamed at him to get away, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge, and Harry actually felt himself take a step away from her before realizing what he was doing and halting mid-step.

He let his eyes search the surrounding area wondering if perhaps, there was something dangerous around but saw nothing but a few casual passerby, no wands or deadly weapons, no danger. He looked back at Naomi and took a proper look at her and that's when he saw it, that look in her eyes.

When Harry had looked at them last there had been a deadened look to them, given to her by grief. However, there had also been a persevering spark, a glimmer of determination that clearly said that although she was down she wasn't out. Looking into her eyes now Harry didn't see that glimmer anymore. Naomi's eyes were vacant, faraway, dark, and lifeless. He had seen eyes like that on only two different kinds of people the dead and the_ Imperiused_ and since Naomi was still walking around he assumed it was the latter.

His eyes widened in shock, was Naomi Imperiused? Why? Who did it? Naomi tried turning back to keep walking but Harry instinctively grabbed her arm. The pulsing started again, dizziness once more, he ignored it not letting go this time.

She looked blankly at him and simply said, "Please let go Harry-kun I have something I need to do."

Harry hated the emotionless way her voice sounded but he didn't have much time to focus on that before he started feeling ill. His breathing became labored; he felt his chest constricting, piercing pain shooting through him. He vaguely noticed that he was sweating and his heart was racing and something about all of this seemed familiar. An urge to let go of Naomi's arm was tugging at his mind but he pushed that urge away stubbornly holding on, afraid that she would somehow disappear if he let go.

He stood there feeling increasingly ill as he tried to figure out what to do next. He looked around; there were too many people here to do any diagnostics spells to see just what was wrong. Harry wasn't sure why but even though this whole thing screamed of Imperious he felt like it was something else entirely. He was starting to feel desperate, nausea nearly overwhelming him, his body started to feel strangely heavy. He looked around shocked that no one noticed how loudly his heart was beating.

Naomi started trying to tug her arm loose from Harry's grasp. He tightened his hold on her and said, "No Naomi you- you have to come with me." He managed to drag her into the bookshop they were standing nearby.

The shop was blissfully empty except for the man behind the register; Harry ignored him as he dizzily stumbled his way into one of the shelved aisles dragging Naomi along. She just kept saying she had something to do. He felt as though he were about to pass out at any moment so he did the only thing he could think of, he apparated from the bookshop Naomi and all.

* * *

Harry was violently throwing up all over the white tiled floors of Tokyo's Twenty-six Martyrs Hospital for Magical Maladies, the closest magical hospital Harry could think of. He glanced over and saw that Naomi was in one piece and still very much in a daze. She didn't seem to have reacted to the apparating at all; it sent a spike of worry through him. He realized he was still holding onto her arm in a tight grasp and abruptly let go.

Suddenly the horrible dizziness eased away, his heart quit trying to beat out of his chest, and the urge to vomit was more easily subdued. The piercing pain in his chest diminished as did the heaviness he'd felt earlier.

His eyebrows rose and pulled together in confusion and surprise. He took a few deep breaths, putting his fingers on his neck to feel his pulse; it was in fact normal once more.

It was then that he noticed a Medi-Witch rushing toward him from behind her desk and to his side, trying to get his attention. He wondered if she had perhaps put some sort of medical spell on him that would explained his now calmed continence. However, she just looked worriedly between him and Naomi asking questions. What was wrong, who were they, and after she'd done what Harry assumed to be a diagnostic spell she asked him sounding slightly harassed why he had brought a muggle to a magical hospital.

Harry who had been caught up in his thoughts sprung to attention at this question, he shakily got up off the floor, absently noting that the Medi-Witch had already cleaned up his vomit.

"I- my name is Harry- E-vans Harry Evans" he was so shaken up he almost gave his real name, "I-" Harry saw she had her wand raised at him, whether to curse him or check him over further he wasn't sure but he really didn't want to find out. He waved his hands at her, attempting to put as much authority into his voice as he could. "No I'm not the sick one she is, over there that muggle, I suspect the imperious curse, but I'm not sure. I'm fine but I need you to help her."

She wavered in her attempt looking over at Naomi who had gotten up and was starting to wonder down a hallway. Harry went to go grab her again but just before he touched her shoulder, he suddenly realized with a jolt what had made him sick before. _'I- I touched her both times I got sick, on the sidewalk,'_ he thought faltering in his step, reluctant to make contact with her again. _'Does she have a different curse on her?'_ he questioned.

He turned to the Medi-Witch, "Please," he started looking between her and Naomi, "I can't make contact with her; she seems to have something else on her. A different curse maybe, it's making me sick."

The Medi-Witch seemed to finally get a hold of herself, running over to the fireplace behind her desk using what Harry assumed was an internal floo network requesting help from a Healer Takahashi. The man Harry assumed was the healer came rushing into the room, he looked around apparently trying to assess the situation.

Harry waved his hand to get the Healer's attention, "Excuse me, it's my friend Naomi, over there." He pointed at Naomi who was still aimlessly meandering down the hall. "She needs help, she's a muggle and I think someone's cursed her."

Harry wasn't entirely sure what else to say, he was completely out of his element. He knew this must be Kira's work but he had no idea what Kira used to kill people with or what was going on. Harry had thought Kira only killed with heart attacks but here was Naomi acting so oddly and it was making him sick. Why was it making him sick?

He noticed that the Healer was still consulting the Medi-Witch, his frustration and panic spiked inside him and before he had time to think, his anger got the better of him as he yelled, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! STOP STANDING AROUND AND HELP MY FRIEND BEFORE I CURSE YOU INTO OBLIVION!"

The Medi-Witch jumped at his shout and hid herself behind the Healer who gave him a calculating look as he raised his hands in a consolatory manner.

"Sir you need to calm down, I will help your friend as soon as I figure out what's going on, why don't you take a seat." Healer Takahashi pointed at the rickety wooden chairs of the empty waiting room. "Medi-Witch Tanaka can get you a calming drought while you wait."

Harry stared incredulously at the man who was talking to him so calmly and as though he were a misbehaving five year old while his friend was probably dying. He whipped his head over to look once more at Naomi who was half way down the hall. _'She's going to die, this has to be Kira, doesn't he see it, why isn't he doing anything!'_ he thought.

He then realized turning his attention away from the Healer had been mistake. He felt a spell hit him and darkness tugged away at his consciousness.

* * *

Harry was running, rushing forward trying to fill the gap between him and the giant pen that seemed miles away across a giant expanse of map. Right when he was finally drawing nearer the lines that had once bordered country divides slithered out of their shapes and out of the ground. They grasped around his arms and legs, trying to prevent him from getting to the pen that was clearly writing something in the distance.

As he struggled against them one of the lines holding his arm down morphed into a snake and it started talking to him in an oddly familiar voice that he just couldn't place, "Lost my rememberall, can't remember where I forgot it, I would help you but I'm not on the case."

Harry stared wide eyed at the snake as a lump formed in it's stomach moving up through it's throat, the snake's jaws opened wide and a glass orb filled with silvery blue light fell from it's mouth. Harry managed to catch it in his hand but dropped it, as it turned red upon contact.

It fell to the ground shattering to pieces, a red fog spilling from it, momentarily blinding him. The lines that had been attempting to hold him disappeared as did the snake and he fell to the ground holding himself up with his arms.

Eventually the fog cleared as Harry batted the fumes away gasping for breath; he looked in front of him and jumped backwards as the giant pen appeared in front of him. He looked down at where it was still writing and there on the ground it was spelling out N-a-o-m-i-. He was distracted by it though as he felt his heart starting to beat wildly in his chest, harder and harder until he thought it was going to explode before he opened his eyes and realized it was a dream.

Harry shot up from his lounging position on the bed he was laying on, eyes wide as he wildly looked around trying to figure out where he was. A spike of panic overtook him as his hands patted himself and the bed down as though fearing snakes were in the white depths of the crisp white sheets. Then perhaps even more alarmingly his panic forcefully dispersed, he felt unnaturally calm. Somehow, his initial alarm just seeped out of him and all he could do was think in an ever so objective point of view about just how alarmed he should be.

_'I should be worried shouldn't I? Where am I? I should know that shouldn't I?' _he questioned himself knowing full well he should be more concerned and yet somehow unable to feel anything but relaxed.

He looked around the small room hoping to figure out where he was and almost immediately, he recognized it.

Glaringly white walls, the crisp white sheets, the white nightstand adorned with tattered magazines that were older than he was. There could be no doubt that this was a hospital. He saw his wand and his clothes also laying on the nightstand next to him. As he grabbed them his body relaxed from a frigid posture he hadn't even known he was in.

_'That's odd, I feel calm, why's my body so tense?' _he asked himself noting the unusually tense hold he had on his phoenix feather wand. He felt more calm then he could ever remember, so why did his body feel so on edge. He could feel something wearing on his senses but couldn't for the life of him figure out what.

After searching and finding the disillusioned wand holster on the belt of his pants, which still contained the elder wand, he allowed himself a moment to catch his bearings. He raised a hand to protect his eyes from the dreadful fluorescent lighting. He let his eyes close as he rubbed tiredly at his face, supporting himself on his other arm.

_'Why am I here again?' _he asked himself before it slowly came back to him. _'That's right, that Healer, he stunned me after I brought N-'_ his thought stopped there, dropping his hand from his face, his eyes shooting open as a jolt of panic shot through him. It was yet again drowned out by this wave of calm, he felt a streak of irritation at this annoying forced calm only for that to disappear as well.

"Naomi," he muttered dazedly as he tugged the sheets off him and climbed out of bed. He paused his movement suddenly as a thought struck him and he realized just why he was so calm.

"They drugged me!" he shouted, or attempted to shout as indignantly as he could when under the influence of what Harry assumed was a rather strong calming drought. It came out more bemused then angry.

"Hello again, Mr. Evans," said a voice from a corner of the room.

Harry flinched startled only now realizing he was not alone. His head shot up at the direction the sound came from and was quite surprised by who he saw. He felt his translator charm switch to English, "Mr. Thompson, what are you doing here?"

He pushed away his initial confusion as he took in the man's plain face; it had taken on a grim look as he stood in front of Harry. Harry couldn't help the feeling of foreboding at his appearance.

Thompson tossed a glass vial to Harry, who thanks to his seeker skills easily caught it even in his drugged state. Bringing the vial before his face Harry saw a thick teal colored liquid. He recognized it as the very basic potion that ministry officials commonly used to undo the effects of other potions.

He absently waved his wand over the stoppered glass phial running a very weak diagnostic spell, the stopper turned blue revealing that the safety seal was on meaning the potion had not been tampered with since it was brewed and sealed. He pulled the stopper out of the bottle bringing it to his nose to sniff, his nose scrunched up as it was assaulted by the smell of rotten cabbage it certainly seemed right.

Harry didn't once take his eyes off the Unspeakable in the room; Thompson just seemed amused by his show of paranoia.

"Don't trust me at all do you?" he asked jauntily.

Harry decided to chug the potion down, before answering. Relief filled him as that annoying forced calm was cleaned from his system as the potion did its work.

Slightly smiling he looked at Thompson as he replied, "Sorry, once an Auror always an Auror, considering I've gotten cursed and drugged once today I'd rather not take any chances." Setting the empty vial down on the nightstand, he quickly started to get out of the hospital bed and was assaulted by wooziness the second he was standing.

"I hate getting stunned," he said disgruntled, leaning his weight on the hospital bed he had just vacated as the room momentarily spun. The stunning in combination with the potions caused quite the punch. He was very sorely tempted to close his eyes but as he had just said, he wasn't letting his guard down.

He gulped down his urge to vomit for the second time that day, pushing his nausea away to face the man in front of him who was starting to talk.

"Mr. Evans, you should take it easy, you don't look so good."

"Where's Naomi?" Harry asked getting right to the point as panic for Naomi's well being surged to the surface of his thoughts.

"I- you mean the muggle?" he asked as though making sure they were on the same page.

"Yes," answered Harry, letting his irritation slip into his voice, "My friend, Naomi is a muggle and last I checked her condition wasn't good. How long have I been out, where is she and what's her status?" He tried to transform the irritation into an authoritative voice putting his Auror face on.

Thompson seemed startled by Harry sudden take-charge attitude but responded with an equally serious attitude, sounding slightly offended.

"To answer your first question, I originally came down because I had an appointment with a Healer. I stayed because I heard them mention someone named Evans fitting your description came and brought a muggle with them. They were about to call the Auror's but I took care of it." The man sent him an admonishing look before continuing, "I thoroughly expect a very expensive bottle of Firewhiskey, for that one."

Harry nodded before saying, "Thanks... for that," he was indeed very grateful he didn't think getting Auror attention would help at all. They would invariably find out who he was. The following interrogation and trouble of it would have been very inconvenient and would have drawn him away from Naomi.

The man nodded back before his face turned grim again, "Now... on to your other questions, the muggle, Naomi you said her name was? Well she's been given a private room on the fifth floor, now I need to ask, has she suffered any significant emotional trauma lately?"

Harry could feel the calculating gaze the man was sending him and was confused about it and the man's question. He nodded before answering, "Yes, her- her fiancé has recently died, but what has that got t-"

The Unspeakable interrupted him nodding his head with a look on his face as though that was exactly the answer he was expecting. "I see, Mr. Potter," he said dropping all pretenses, "The Healers have been unable to figure out what's wrong with her, and after checking her over myself, I can honestly say there doesn't seem to be any magical influence. The only conclusion I can come to is that there's nothing magically wrong with her. "

Harry felt his stomach drop as he heard this. "Nothing magically wrong," he parroted faintly, disbelievingly. "Nothing magically wrong," he said it again, incredulity seeping into his voice as it increased in volume. He pinned the man with a glare powered by both his anger and his growing panic. His voice grew even louder, "How can you say there's nothing wrong, you examined her, the Healer examined her and neither of you think there's anything_ wrong_! I saw her myself there was clearly something wrong with her, I was affected by whatever it was." Harry insisted.

For a moment, Harry fleetingly thought he saw something cross over the man's face, a piercing look of interest or disbelief but it was gone so fast he knew he must have imagined it. He shook his head; the day's events were clearly making him paranoid. "How long have I been out? I need to see her, take me to her room," he demanded.

Thompson sighed but nodded affirmatively, "You've only been out for about an hour, when I heard they sedated you I came to wake you up. I'm kind of wondering what you did to make them feel the need to restrain you but I suppose now's really not the time to ask. I'll take you to her room but you'll have to get dressed first."

It was then that Harry noticed that they had dressed him in an ugly green pastel nightgown. He let out a few choice words as he took in his attire, "Alright, I'll get dressed wait for me in the hall?" he asked resignedly. The man nodded and left the room leaving Harry to hurriedly get redressed.

He wondered how it didn't occur to him before that he wasn't dressed in his own clothes when he was holding them in his hands. He decided to blame his momentary stupidly on being drugged. _'I don't have time for this,'_ he thought as he finished getting dressed and rushed after the man.

* * *

As Harry entered the room he was immediately drawn to the hospital bed where Naomi was laying, a sliver of dread made itself known in the form of a lump in his throat at the site of her laying there so motionless. But then he observed her chest rising and falling assuring him that she was only sleeping.

He sighed in relief as he slumped into the chair next to the bed, turning his attention to Thompson who was standing in the doorway unsurely. He sighed again as he got back up. He motioned him to come in before closing the door and putting up a silencing charm just in case. Thompson raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise comment on his paranoid behavior.

Harry sat back down before addressing him "You said you checked her over."

Thompson nodded in response.

"Dreamless sleep?" he asked motioning to her prone form and again he nodded yes.

"No anomalies what so ever?" He could hear the desperation leaking into his voice. He knew it couldn't be just a coincidence, and although an anomaly would be bad, it's better than complete ignorance.

"I- no I couldn't find any," Thompson answered shaking his head, "I do however think I know what it could be..."

Harry had been looking once more at Naomi despairingly but shot his head back in Thompson's direction.

"What?"

"Well you mentioned her fiancé died recently. I, well... have you considered that it could be a... response to that," he said stumbling on his words as he attempted to put things as delicately as he could.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, his hands gripping the armrest of the chair he was sitting in. He looked away from the man to Naomi as he said, "You think she's having a mental breakdown." His voice came out deceptively calm, a monotone with underlining venom to it that Harry didn't even try to disguise. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man flinch and a vindictive part of him felt pleased at that.

"Mr. Potter surely you know how common it is for someone whose suffered the trauma of losing a loved one to have an extreme emotional rea-"

Harry's eyes narrowed further as he turned his glare directly on the man interrupting him. He couldn't stop the hollow laugh that escaped him as barely restrained anger laced his words.

"Yes I know that _quite _well. In fact I also know very much what it's like to have a breakdown and I can tell you right now that's not what's going on here."

Thoughts of his own little breakdowns surfaced into the prefatory of his mind. There had been two, one after the war and one after what everyone kept referring to as his 'midlife crisis' after the breakup. After working himself into exhaustion, he spiraled into a depression so deep it terrified him to imagine ever reaching that low point again.

Uncertainty warred with his initial denial as a traitorous thought sneaked its way into his mind. What if it really _was_ just a breakdown? What if he was making a mountain out of a molehill? He desperately wanted to believe it because as bad as a breakdown was it was so much more preferable to the alternative. He wanted to believe the man was right but... he knew he wasn't. He had been ignoring his instincts for too long. This was too much of a coincidence and he knew, just knew it wasn't something so simple. After all a breakdown couldn't explain his charms going faulty or his getting ill upon contact.

Harry viciously shook his head,_ 'I'm not going to do this again,'_ he thought, _'I can't keep doubting myself.'_ Harry looked up at Thompson who was silently watching him apprehensively waiting for him to say more.

They stared at one another for a moment before Harry broke the silence. "It's not a breakdown, I know it's not and I understand if you don't believe me, but it doesn't really matter to me if you do or not. I need whatever information you've got from your inspection of her as well as the name of the healers who are on her case... I also need your silence on the matter."

He paused as he looked Thompson in the eye as he continued. "You said you came here for a Healer's appointment, what'll it take to keep it that way?"

Thompson seemed to pause and consider what Harry had said, instantly catching on to what he was hinting at before he looked at him shrewdly and answered.

"Healer bills being what they are? 500 Galleons should cover it."

Harry was surprised he asked for money when he considered how well Unspeakables were paid for their mysterious job and how much more beneficial it could have been for him to have asked for something else. Harry didn't feel in the least bit arrogant for assuming the man would want to take advantage of his influence instead of his wealth.

Thompson must have noticed Harry's surprise for he smiled faintly and shrugged his shoulders saying, "Once an Obliviator always an Obliviator."

Harry felt his corner of his mouth tug into an almost smile.

"That the going rate for being in the know these days?" Harry asked referencing the Obliviators penchant for 'forgetting' to mind wipe people. The man's smile turned wry.

"With inflation these days who knows what those whippersnappers charge."

Harry nodded as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the Mokeskin pouch Hagrid had given him so long ago. It was shrunken down to the size of a small wallet and worked very well for that purpose; he was the only one who could take out whatever he put in it. He also took out his wand.

Harry noticed the man raise his own wand as though afraid of attack, he pretended not to notice as he re-sized the pouch. After he opened it, he placed it on his lap. Pointing his wand at the opening, he muttered "Accio Gringotts bag."

There was a clinking sound as the leather Gringotts bag zoomed out of the much smaller bag and into his left hand, which he had positioned in front of his face just preventing it from hitting him. He had learned to do that the hard way.

"Undetectable extension charm?" asked the Unspeakable impressed.

"Friend of mine taught me the spell," answered Harry not bothering to look up from his counting as he measured out the required 500 galleons. He carried around 700 galleons or so as just in case money and right now he was rather glad he did. He then conjured an empty leather pouch and placed the coins inside it. Setting it aside, he put his Gringotts bag back in his mokeskin pouch, re-shrunk, and replaced it in his pocket.

"Willing to take an Oath?" Harry asked Thompson.

He seemed surprised, "Is that really necessary?"

"You seem like a nice guy Mr. Thompson but I don't like taking any chances, no offense."

Thompson smiled and waved him off, "No worries, considering you're bribing me I can't really blame you."

"I'll bind it," said Harry grabbing the bribe as he stood up and held out his right hand to Thompson, holding his wand in his left. They shook hands and Harry waved his wand a bit clumsily with his less dominant hand as he said the incantation to initiate their oath.

He then started, "Do you Phillip Thompson swear to keep what you've witnessed today with regards to one Harry Potter-Black aka Harrison Evans and Naomi Misaki as well as this entire incident a secret with the understanding that 500 Galleons will be paid in full in return which will be revoked upon violation of this oath?"

Thompson nodded as he said, "I swear, do you Harry Potter-Black swear to keep your promise to pay 500 Galleons in full for my secrecy and keep this instance of bribery a secret under the understanding that this oath will be faulty should you not pay the said bribe within a 24 hour period."

"I swear," agreed Harry, their hands glowed white as the oath was enacted. Harry then handed the bag of galleons to the man.

He knew the oath was actually faulty; the fact of the matter was Harry didn't actually know what Naomi's last name was having suspected that last name to be a fake. Fortunately, Thompson didn't know that. As far as Thompson knew, he had more to gain than to lose in following that oath. If it hadn't been faulty the galleons would have transferred back to Harry if he said anything and Harry would be able to turn him in for accepting a bribe. The most Harry would get was a slap on the wrist for bribing where as Thompson would lose his job.

Harry looked once more at Naomi before asking, "How long will she be out?"

"Oh I'd say about another hour or two, the healers want to discharge her after that," warned Thompson shrinking his bag and placing his bribe in his pocket.

Harry felt a momentary spike of concern at this news before reassuring himself that he could extend her time here with a generous donation to the hospital. He'd already bribed one person today what was one more?

"So about your findings..." Harry asked.

Thompson's face turned slightly sheepish as he responded, "I didn't actually record my findings since it wasn't official ministry business."

As Harry allowed his annoyance at this news to show on his face, the man quickly continued. "But I remember what I've checked, I'll just go check over my memories in a pensieve and record those for you shall I?"

Harry nodded, "And the healer on the case?"

"Healer Takahashi and Medi-Witch Tanaka were on the case,"

"Takahashi...? You mean the one that stunned me," asked Harry disgruntled.

Thompson grinned, "That's the one! Do you need me to-?"

"No." cut off Harry, "You've done me quite a few favors already. I'll handle it just get back to the job you seem so happy to endanger for someone you hardly know."

The man winked at him, "That I will, Mr. Evans, that I will." With that, Thompson jauntily walked off with promises to owl the information to him.

Harry shortly thought about how oddly nice that guy was. He was quite amazed that the man had been so helpful to him. But then he supposed people in the Wizarding World tended to want to help _'The Harry Potter'_. Somehow, Thompson hadn't really struck Harry as that type though; perhaps he was just a generally nice guy.

Shrugging his shoulders at the human conundrum Harry turned to Naomi's sleeping form. He felt panic welling in him again before determinedly steeling himself to go have a few words with this Healer Takahashi.

* * *

So many hours, galleons, calls, and threats later Harry was staring at Naomi's medical files despairingly. He was not a Healer, and although he could read and understand the basics of the Healer's report, it was not going so well. If highly trained Healers and an Unspeakable couldn't figure out what was going on just how could he?

For the umpteenth time that day Harry growled out a few swear words in frustration as he tried in vain to think of what could be causing this. He knew a lot about curses and jinks, dark potions and artifacts; it was a big part of Auror training. Not to mention defense against these things had always been a hobby for him. However, as he wracked the archives of his mind he came up short.

He tried to reassure himself with the fact that Hermione was coming to Japan in a few short hours and yet even this did not comfort him. He had called her because as always when in doubt you ask Hermione. It had been difficult to explain the situation, especially as it was over the international floo network but he'd managed to convince her to come immediately. She said she only had a few things to settle at work and then she'd be there.

As he waited for her, he was overcome with helplessness, being unable to do anything for Naomi. He felt useless, and although he'd convinced the Healers to do a more thorough check up they still concluded it to be a muggle issue. He had also managed to extend her stay here for a few more days; he planned to have her transferred to Saint Mungos after that.

She had awoken a few times and Harry found her in just the same condition she had been before he was stunned. They had even had to magically restrain her to the bed to prevent her from wondering away. She continued to act dead to the world and continued to insist that she had something she had to do. Though just what that was she refused to say.

He'd tried some compulsion charms but it was to no avail and he didn't want to risk Veritaserum reacting to whatever was causing her behavior in case it was somehow viral. The truth potion was far too volatile to play fast and loose with. Naomi was in a stable condition physically and he would not do anything to jeopardize that. He kept close monitor on her heart, which thankfully had remained seemingly healthy.

He knew he should have been happy that she was not dead nor did she appear to be heading that way. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but be on edge. It felt as though it was the quiet before the storm.

He would sit there poring over medical files and heavy tomes on every magical malady one could think of. Restlessly tapping his foot on the floor or a pen on a note pad. Shifting his attention from the books, to Naomi, to the clock on the wall as he waited for Hermione to show up. Healers and Medi-Witches, whom were tentatively musing over the case on his insistence dropped by ever so often with theories that never panned out.

He'd drop everything at regular intervals to check Naomi's vitals and pace around the tiny sterile room as he pushed his mind to think faster, harder, to come up with the answer before it was too late.

Eventually he cast a spell to amplify Naomi's heartbeat so that he would know that it was still working normally without having to constantly check. He could hear the ticking of the clock above the door mixing with the sound of her heart.

He thought perhaps amplifying her heartbeats had been a mistake, as the sounds seemed to displace him. Taking him to a time when he heard his own heartbeat, thinking it was numbered, wondering how many he'd have left. It made him wonder in morbid curiosity just how many beats Naomi would have before the storm hit, before his efforts became futile and proved that he had failed her again.

He felt so helpless, so defeated as his thoughts trailed down these depressive avenues sitting in the uncomfortable seat next to Naomi. "I'm so sorry," he muttered quietly. Feeling as though he should just give up, he started shutting the medical book he was perusing in defeat. But just then Naomi's eyes opened and although they stared blankly at him it was enough to force his determination to the forefront of his mind. He would not give up until the end. He could save her or he could fail her but either way Harry decided then and there he would struggle all the way.

* * *

_**Authors Note:** Well there we go, yet another chapter. I was going to have even more happen but I figured the story would flow better if I were to cut it off here. Well that and I'm feeling creatively exhausted from writing this and thought it's probably be better to give you all this update than to make you wait even longer when it could just as easily be cut off here. There's something to look forward in the next chapter, Harry's going to talk to L! Well anyways thanks for reading. I feel pretty good about this chapter but I'd love to hear your opinions, so tell me what you think!_


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